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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633849">Seen that wild blue yonder (let's hide under the covers)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle'>dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Communication, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Neighbors, POV Stiles Stilinski, Professor Derek Hale, Smut, Versatile Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Weatherman Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:40:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25633849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Weatherman Stiles doesn’t have time for a relationship. So when his friend and neighbor uneasily tells him that he’s thinking about dating again, but he doesn’t feel ready yet, the solution seems obvious. Friend sex. Obviously. </p>
<p>Or: 5 times Derek asks Stiles about the weather, and one time he doesn’t need to ask.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>A Very Sterek Summer fest 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Seen that wild blue yonder (let's hide under the covers)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For day 6 of A Very Sterek Summer: How's the weather? </p>
<p>I wrote smut, y'all. Now, this isn't actually 20+k of porn. If I'd written out all the sex this fic would be twice as long, and that just wasn't gonna happen. Don't worry, Stiles still has a lot to say about it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stiles was so over this overtime. He was pretty sure he hadn’t seen anything other than the inside of the studio and his apartment for weeks now. Not for any significant amount of time anyway. Just because one of the other meteorologists quit, didn’t mean that Stiles alone had to make up for the massive gap in the roster. Or, well, it shouldn’t have to mean that, but it did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes it really sucked being the kid, the one without a partner waiting for him at him, or kids he had to tuck into bed. Stiles was debating making up a cat or dog that he really had to be home to take care of, because it was starting to cut into having any kind of life outside work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he’d ever had much of a life outside of work, other than weekly video chats with his Dad and step-mom, and the occasional message from Scott. That was just what happened when Stiles moved to the East Coast for a promising job and left everyone behind in Beacon Hills, all the way on the other side of the country. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>People said that absence made the heart grow fonder, and well… Yeah, maybe it did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the weather?” Hot Neighbor Derek asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cloudy with a chance of burnout,” Stiles sighed heavily. “And I can’t believe you still ask me that every single time. It’s like you don’t even bother to watch me light up your screen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had honestly been the best thing about moving to New York, outside of his job. They’d met because of some errant mail, and when Derek said something completely inane about the Mets, Stiles just had to school him on the correct baseball opinions. At least he hadn’t been ruined in his hockey opinions yet, so Stiles could educate him on the superiority of the Chicago Blackhawks while mourning the racist name and logo, and explain to him that Gritty was clearly an eldritch being that no one wanted to piss off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Especially because Stiles firmly believed that Gritty could cause an apocalypse if it wanted to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you eaten yet?” Derek just gave him that look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I had a sandwich,” Stiles wasn’t actually sure. “A few hours ago maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How could one be sure when time was a liminal space that made no fucking sense? Stiles didn’t even know what day it was anymore, let alone the time. He was pretty sure that his various alarms were the only reason he got anywhere even remotely on time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And even that was starting to become more of a stretch. He couldn’t even remember what it was like to have a full night’s sleep. What was it like to feel well-rested?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have leftovers,” Derek announced, like it was no big deal. “Drop your stuff, put some actually comfortable clothes on and come over to mine. I promise not to tell you how much the Mets actually suck if you just eat something before you fall into a coma again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, he said. Like it had happened so many times before. Only like twice this week. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fact that it was only Thursday didn’t even matter, because Stiles was totally going to catch some actual sleep tonight, because he surprisingly had Friday off this week. If they didn’t call him in at the last minute again - which was what had happened last week. And the week before that, and the week before when fucking Chad had quit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fucking Chad. Just leaving without any kind of repercussions and leaving them in the lurch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, so you do care,” Stiles pretended to be surprised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, Derek had a big fucking heart that he was hiding underneath the typical New Yorker asshole behavior. Which meant that coming from Derek, rudeness was basically a declaration of life-long friendship and support. Many an idiot had probably been scared off by the gruff exterior and the murder brows, but Stiles was far too smart to let that happen to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Also, Derek didn’t have to hide the whole werewolf thing from him, so that helped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up,” Derek told him, trying to intimidate him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The murder brows were barely even at half strength, which meant that the attempt at intimidation really was not going to do anything for Stiles. Because by now, he was pretty much immune to anything under the eightieth percentile - frequent exposure just did that to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek continued to try though, because he was the stubborn kind of asshole. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t ask the impossible,” Stiles had to get the last word in before he made a brief stop at his own apartment. “See you in a couple of minutes. I clearly have to fix my hair.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trying to pretend he couldn’t hear Derek’s muttering about how his hair was a lost cause, Stiles stepped into his apartment. It was a damn mess and oddly lifeless and empty at the same time, because he just hadn’t spent enough time there to do most of the things that he usually liked to do. He’d been so excited when he’d found the place, because he was actually making enough to get a place of his own without roommates, but now he realized that he probably should have settled for somewhere cheaper if he wasn’t actually going to spend time there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not what he should be focusing on, probably, but he couldn’t help himself. At least the crazy hours spent working meant that he was making more money and didn’t have time to go on spending sprees, so he should have enough money saved up to visit his Dad whenever he was finally allowed to take some time off again. Good things were coming - eventually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he glanced at himself in the mirror, he realized that Derek hadn’t been all that wrong about his hair being a lost cause, at least for the day. The make-up artist and stylist had put far too much product in it, and his face now looked like a toddler had made an attempt to do his make-up. Groaning at the sight, he undressed rapidly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just throwing his clothes into the conveniently placed hamper would have to do for now, laundry could wait until the morning. Or the afternoon, after he’d slept for a solid twelve hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hopped into the shower, washing off the make-up and at least making an attempt at washing some of the product out of his hair. He managed to keep it short mostly by keeping the water slightly colder than he normally would, because otherwise he was going to just never leave the shower ever again. The bathroom had been one of the reasons he’d chosen this place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After haphazardly drying himself off and discovering that he was definitely going to need to wash a load of underwear tomorrow, Stiles grabbed a pair of sweats and a Mets t-shirt that he was going to wear proudly to rub Derek’s face in his terrible opinions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His clothes were sticking to his skin and he refused to put on socks or any kind of footwear, so this was the best he was going to get. Derek had probably seen him look a lot worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, here I come,” he sighed and stepped out of his apartment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Locking the door behind him - he’d only forgotten once but Derek had kicked his ass out of the apartment in the middle of a conversation about half a dozen times since to make sure that he hadn’t forgotten it again - he almost tripped over the hem of his sweatpants as he strode towards Derek’s door. His stomach growled loudly at the smells emanating from the apartment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Since Derek was only anal about Stiles’ apartment being locked, and thinking that because he was a terrifying werewolf he didn’t actually need to lock his own door, Stiles didn’t even bother to knock before getting inside. Derek could sense him coming anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you get rid of the clown make-up?” Derek pretended to be disappointed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel like you were not ready for that look,” Stiles rolled his eyes and threw his body onto Derek’s infinitely superior couch. “Now, feed me Seymour. Feed me all night long.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That earned him another glare, this one closer to about sixty percent strength. Stiles pretended to be slightly deterred by it - because it wouldn’t be smart to let Derek know about just how immune he was to most of his bluster by now. So he sat up straight(er), and waited for Derek to bring out a plate of whatever deliciousness he’d managed to put together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just pasta,” Derek was actually trying to apologize for his food. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pasta is the food of the gods,” Stiles had the counterargument ready. “And I will not hear any of that self-deprecating bullshit from you when you know that I’m a lazy son of a bitch who can only make like five dishes. And none of them are even half as yummy as your food.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would have punched Derek a little for good measure, but last time he’d done that he injured his hand a little and made Derek laugh at him. So clearly he wasn’t trying that a second time, not without bulking up and finding out Derek’s weak spots. Because even a guy like Derek - hot and supernaturally buff - was bound to have at least one weak spot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up and eat,” Derek ordered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which meant that Stiles had actually gotten to him with the sincere appreciation. Which meant that Stiles got to award himself a ton of mental points, basking in the fact that he was clearly winning this competition that Derek didn’t even know about. Just because Stiles had a big mouth and actually dared to talk about his feelings sometimes, and Derek was much better at angrily caring from a distance, without ever saying anything that could be construed as sincere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a legend,” Stiles groaned as the first bite of carbonara hit his tongue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was Derek, so he didn’t bother with waiting to finish chewing before he said something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re gross,” Derek just rolled his eyes and turned the TV to something random and boring that they were barely going to pretend to watch. “Now eat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like Stiles was going to let a mountain of carbonara go to waste! Bitch please, he was going to shove it all in his face in like five to ten minutes and then try to figure out if Derek had seconds hidden somewhere. Or dessert. He fucking loved a good dessert, and since Derek had stopped hiding his sweet tooth (or fang) around Stiles… The odds were probably in his favor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That means you have to talk,” Stiles reminded his friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Derek audibly groaned, because he liked relying on Stiles to fill any awkward silences with his inability to keep his mouth shut. “Fine. If I have to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, Stiles didn’t know why Derek believed that he didn’t have anything interesting to say, but he kind of wanted to punch the person who’d made it happen. Derek had a way of describing things that was dryly witty, and a lack of patience for the idiots in this world that made it all the more hilarious. Plus, Stiles actually gave a damn about this idiot, which meant that he would have listened to Derek talk about watching paint dry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that was just what friends did for each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek,” Stiles complained with his mouth full of delicious pasta. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My sister called again,” Derek had probably not wanted to tell him this, not right away. “She’s doing well, and so are Jordan and the kids. And then she started talking about this girl she knows who just moved to New York and if she could give her my number so that I could help her get around the city. Maybe show her around a little.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clearly that was a euphemism. Clearly the big sister had struck again, trying to foist some hapless girl on Derek because she was in that phase in life where she thought that everyone else should be as happy as she was. Which was great, and Stiles was sure that the post partum hormones had played a significant part in that idea, except that Laura could only see one road to happiness for her only living brother. Which was the wife and kids and white picket fence road. And that was just not where Derek was at right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or ever? It wasn’t like they ever had any serious conversations about it. Nothing that went past venting about meddling sisters (and fathers in Stiles’ case). </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told her to shove it,” Derek didn’t mince words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Poor Laura,” Stiles didn’t feel sorry for her in the slightest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d never even met Laura, had never even talked to her, so he was getting all of his information second-hand. That probably made him more than a little bit biased, but he was pretty damn sure that Derek could use someone who was biased on his behalf. It wasn’t exactly like he had a whole lot of other options for that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that was how Derek liked his life. Solitude with Stiles as the exception. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She said hi, by the way,” Derek rolled his eyes as he relayed the message. “In between all the ranting about how my workaholic neighbor shouldn’t be the only person I talk to on a regular basis, and how I should at least try to go out with my coworkers when they ask me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles would have resented his description if it hadn’t been painfully fucking accurate. He was a total workaholic - just not by choice these days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thing about Derek making other friends? Sure, Stiles had thought that before, because it was weird that someone as annoyingly awesome as Derek didn’t have any other people in his life. But Stiles had been able to smell trust issues on him from a mile away, and from the second they’d met. So he wasn’t going to be an asshole - not about that anyway - and force Derek to play nice with others. It wasn’t that Derek didn’t see people, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He saw entire classes of people regularly, but the schmoozing just wasn’t his favorite part of academia. He preferred to work on his publications and let student psychologists handle any of the issues that propped up. Which made sense to an extent, because Spanish Lit classes were not meant to be therapy. And yet, every semester there had been young students - mostly female, though there had been a few brave dudes as well - who’d reached out to Derek in the hopes of becoming his pet student. Or just his pet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As if Derek would ever - he had a far too upstanding sense of morals and serious issues with power imbalances in relationships. Even Stiles knew that, and Derek basically hadn’t dared to breathe so much as a word about his previous partners. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heck, Stiles only knew that Derek was also potentially interested in people who didn’t identify as female when Laura had attempted to set him up with this college-aged twink and the age thing had been the objection, not the gender. That and how he’d run into him around Pride last year with the both of them wearing a rainbow pin somewhere on them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(Stiles had been wearing the colors of the bisexual flag from head to toe. Derek had just been wearing the pin and his customary henley and jeans.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Stiles commiserated over another bite of food. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like going out to bars,” Derek went off on the familiar rant yet again, even though Stiles could probably recite it verbatim by now. “I can’t get drunk, and people always get drunk and forget that other people have things like boundaries and personal space. I’m tired of getting propositions for one night stands from people who are too drunk to stand up without help. Plus, bars are loud and disgusting and I just sit there and hear and smell exactly what is going on with everyone in there. I don’t want to know any of it. But there’s so much that I can’t filter everything out. And then I know all these secrets about the people I work with. I hate it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yep, that was pretty much the same speech he’d given last time, and the one before that, and the ones before that. Stiles tried to make the right supportive noises at the right time, while at the same time inhaling some more pasta. He was almost done, and now he was warm and full and almost happy, and in possession of a serious food baby. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was it too late to shackle himself to Derek, or to pay him to cook for Stiles? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not that I don’t want to be in a relationship,” Derek was revealing an actual secret now, because Stiles had never heard him say anything along those lines. “It would be nice to have someone to share everything with, and maybe have sex again before I forget how, but I’m not going to find that at a bar. Or with one of Laura’s random set-ups.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now Stiles had a whole bunch of questions that he wanted to ask to follow up on all of this, but he didn’t know how far he could go without Derek shutting him down and promptly ignoring him for like a week until he could pretend it hadn’t happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Derek didn’t exactly have the healthiest approach to conflict resolution. But who did? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not into the meaningless sex scene?” Stiles tried to be so very casual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not into sex with someone I don’t trust,” Derek made a very clear distinction, which made complete sense with what Stiles knew of him. “With someone who could be a hunter, or who could freak out if they saw my eyes flash. I don’t want one night.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course the werewolf thing brought a whole new set of issues into things, when Derek already had a lot of concerns. Stiles thought his point made sense, even though he didn’t really feel the same way about one night stands - they could totally be awesome, especially when Stiles was in the mood to just get railed or eat a girl out in a club bathroom. He especially loved the part where he wasn’t expected to call again - because he most likely was going to forget anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he got the wanting a relationship bit. He wanted that too, maybe. Eventually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there a werewolf-friendly dating site?” Stiles had to ask. “What is the werewolf equivalent of Tinder? Or Grindr? Oh, is it called Growlr? Does that exist? And if not, should I patent it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he could call up Danny - he was pretty sure that he could make it happen, and he already knew about the supernatural world. Which Stiles had only found out at graduation, stumbling into a conversation that revealed that Danny was actually a human in a pack, and had therefore known the whole time what the fuck had been up with Scott. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just hadn’t wanted to get involved. Which, rude, but it also kind of made sense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek was trying to hide that he was actually amused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think I’m hilarious,” Stiles finished his last bite of food. “God, that was good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The plate was clumsily placed onto Derek’s table, even though he probably could have just been a decent houseguest and put it in the kitchen sink. Especially since Derek had already made him food, plated it, and brought it to him. For an asshole, he was too kind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s cookies on the counter,” Derek motioned in the direction of his kitchen. “Careful, they’re still hot. I probably shouldn’t have told you yet, because you aren’t patient enough to wait.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was not wrong. Because cookies. What kind of boring person would have the patience to wait until the cookies actually lost enough heat so they could be touched and eaten without risking burns? That boring person certainly wasn’t Stiles, though he was starting to suspect that it was Derek. Which was just kind of disappointing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not, not when there’s cookies,” Stiles felt like that was obvious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have no self-preservation instincts?” Derek had apparently decided that the best course of action was to pin Stiles to the couch using his not inconsiderable body weight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, this was not where he’d been expecting this dinner to go, but he was totally down for some wrestling and playful flirtation. He just honestly hadn’t thought that Derek wanted them to go in that direction, and he wasn’t going to ruin shit with his best friend in the city. Because he liked what they had and he wasn’t going to ruin it by hitting on Derek when it was clearly not wanted - because Stiles wouldn’t be able to do him justice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, maybe he’d be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> him justice, but he wouldn’t be a good partner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Stiles managed to say, albeit muffled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop wiggling,” Derek ordered, settling even more of his weight on Stiles. “I didn’t pay for a lap dance and you’re making me want to bite you so you’ll stay still.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Could anyone blame him for the very obvious thing that happened next? Stiles was pretty damn sure that they couldn’t. Of course he was going to get turned on by a sexy werewolf pressing him down into the touch cushions and keeping him so very still. That and threatening to bite him? Clearly Christmas had come early, or his birthday had come late this year. Or both, or anything that would explain why he was a very lucky dork right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus, really?” Derek asked exasperatedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I’m sorry,” Stiles totally wasn’t sorry. “Am I being kinkshamed here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles loved some sexy biting - as long as no actual blood was drawn, he was totally good with hickeys and bite marks. Sure, it would suck to give the makeup artist at work so much more work to do, and maybe he would feel a little guilty about that, but mostly he’d feel proud that someone liked and wanted him enough to try and keep him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was that so wrong? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe a little,” Derek assessed him more closely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a lot, okay? Derek was still on top of him, a steady weight on him, leaving him pretty much unable to move in the way he’d like to. It was heady, exciting, especially since he knew that the second his chemosignals told Derek that he wasn’t into it anymore, Derek would back off to the other side of the apartment. Because Derek had that tendency to assume that one flinch meant that people regretted ever associating with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, just say what you’ve been wanting to say,” Stiles wanted to flail so badly. “I can’t take it anymore. I’m shivering with antici…. Wait for it… pation.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reference was right there - of course he had to go there, even though it earned him a disgusted look from Derek. Well, there went that semi-seduction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope, I changed my mind,” Derek got off Stiles and stepped towards the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the one hand: cookies. On the other hand: Derek was clearly avoiding some issue and Stiles didn’t like it. He was one hell of a tease himself, but he really couldn’t handle it when the shoe was on the other foot - he just wanted to know all of the things and he wanted to know them right away. It was rare that anyone managed not to crack and actually surprise him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About what?” Stiles just had to know. “Derek, pretty please!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pout might have worked if Derek had actually been looking in his direction. Because he wasn’t, the effort was in vain, just making Stiles all the more determined to find out what the hell was up with this. Derek had something to say or ask, and Stiles was going to make him get to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t expect it to be easy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you want to have sex?” Derek just came out and asked it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was easy. Too easy. And surprising. And what the hell had Derek just asked? And how quickly could Stiles say yes without looking like a creep who’d been waiting for this since they met? Because while he was a creep who’d been secretly hoping that this could happen, he hadn’t turned into one of those idiots who didn’t believe that the friendzone wasn’t actually a thing. Stiles was better than that. He was easy, but not an asshole. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek Hale I do declare,” Stiles had an aneurysm and turned into a Southern Belle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I freak you out that bad?” Derek sounded almost amused at the idea. “Is that a no?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was that a no, he asked. As if Stiles could ever say no to this. No, he didn’t know how to say no to this. And now he had Hamilton stuck in his head. Again. This just kept happening to him, and it was embarrassing when it ended with him singing along in his terrible singing voice, permanently traumatizing anyone who was listening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course it’s not a no,” Stiles was very easy, even Derek knew that. “I’m just stunned. Talk about out of left field. Why? Why now? Why me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been far too close to asking some other, more nonsensical questions, but he was pretty sure that Derek was never going to stop laughing at him if he started asking things like “how” and “where” and “who”. And if he was that busy laughing at Stiles, they were never going to get around to the sexy times. And that would be a damn tragedy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you really need a list?” Derek was annoyed already - an excellent start. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell yes,” Stiles thought that should have been obvious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why would he not want to hear ten things Derek liked about Stiles? Everyone liked to be flattered, and Stiles was pretty sure that Derek was the only exception to the rule in this apartment. Stiles actually knew how to take a compliment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you and trust you,” Derek said, and Stiles held his breath for the rest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he wasn’t as ready for it as he’d expected, but he could totally handle it. Derek saying he trusted him was kind of a big deal, because while he’d alluded to it a couple of times before, he didn’t usually go around saying it outright like that. No instead he left his door open or talked about embarrassing things that Laura had said or stuff like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then Derek didn’t actually continue, and that was worse. Rude. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was that it?” Now he was just offended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What else did you expect?” Derek rolled his eyes. “An ode to your terrible sense of dress? A sonnet about your moles and the way you snort when you laugh too hard? Me swooning over the way you obviously didn’t even bother with underwear?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, maybe not that, because Derek was never going to get over his issues with the Mets, and Stiles was never going to stop wearing the merch to mess with him. But maybe he would have liked it if Derek had dared to say something about his smile or his eyes or his hands - or his mouth, because people had been telling him he had a good mouth since before he even figured out what they wanted from him. The underwear thing though? Low blow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow is laundry day,” Stiles had to defend himself here. “Also, easy access.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, all he had to do was pull off the shirt that Derek seemed to find so offensive, and push down the sweatpants - gravity would probably do most of the work with those - and then he’d be naked. His body was ready. Totally ready. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not having sex tonight,” Derek had already decided. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not?” Stiles totally wasn’t upset. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, he was. Not that Derek didn’t have the right to take it back, but he was dealing with some emotional whiplash here. Because first there was Derek on top of him and then there was the kinkshaming, and then there was the sex offer, and then Derek just walked away and started fucking around in the kitchen so he didn’t have to look at Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We both need to think this over,” Derek finally finished up in the kitchen. “We need to be sure, if either of us has any doubts, we don’t do this. I know you like to joke about being easy, but if you’re not into me, or don’t want to mess up our dynamic…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Aw. And he really meant that. Aw. Derek was trying to give him a way out, trying to keep him from feeling like he was pressured into this. Which… Never gonna happen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Derek probably had a reason for that, probably involving a bad experience and one of the many reasons why he didn’t trust anyone anymore. Which meant that Stiles was going to have to trust him on this and give him the space he so clearly needed. Because while Stiles was pretty damn sure that he wasn’t ever going to regret this, it was extremely important to him that Derek was one hundred and fifty percent sure that this was what he wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Stiles sighed dramatically. “I like you and you’re hot like burning and for some reason you want to have sex with me. I’m in.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was just going to make it very obvious to Derek that he didn’t have to worry about Stiles not being into it or changing his mind. But that would probably take time for him to believe. So Stiles was just going to have to repeat this just as enthusiastically the next time Derek asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me again in the morning,” Derek was determined to hold off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I at least have a goodnight kiss?” Stiles was just trying to figure out boundaries here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t like he didn’t have enough patience to wait until the morning, or tomorrow night, or even some time this weekend or even next week (maybe). It was just that he was going to need some kind of chemistry test to make sure that this was not going to be awkward and very disappointing. Because it was best that they found out now, rather than mid-coitus. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to jerk off to it when you get home?” Derek knew him too well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if it’s hot,” Stiles had to shoot him a smug grin, daring him to make a move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek looked at him with that ‘I can’t believe this idiot’ look he wore on his face all the damn time when he was around Stiles, but he wasn’t saying no right away. Which, when it came to Derek, was basically a guaranteed yes when he’d finished thinking about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Stiles started moving towards the kitchen, both trying to figure out what Derek had been up to earlier, and if his presence was still welcomed. He didn’t get an immediate answer to the first, but judging by the way Derek grabbed his arm and used it to push Stiles up against the fridge, his presence was still very welcome. He was caged in, surrounded by Derek, and he was happy to just wait for what happened next. At least, he’d wait for a little bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll be hot,” Derek promised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was just about to say something in response when he found himself being kissed like Derek would die if he didn’t. Derek pinned him against the fridge, the handle and several of the cheesy magnets digging into his back as Derek just… devoured him. Mouths open, hands groping, Stiles basically panting into Derek’s mouth. The whole deal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shit, Stiles was so tempted to cant his hips, maybe try and get closer, but that was probably going to make Derek stop. And that was just about the last thing he wanted here. He wanted to keep going until he passed out from oxygen loss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Far too soon, it was over. And Stiles was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrecked</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hot enough?” Derek asked smugly, because clearly he’d made his point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were no words. None. Stiles had been silenced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go home,” Derek ordered. “And don’t forget your dessert.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stumbled back to his own apartment, Tupperware of cookies in hand, and barely managed to get the door locked behind him and the cookies set aside before he pulled his pants down and jerked himself to an extremely satisfying orgasm. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Apparently Derek had gotten caught up in some kind of stupid obligatory meeting with the professor he worked most closely with, because it was almost seven and Stiles hadn’t seen head nor tail (hehe, tail) of him all day. Classes were over, what was there to talk about? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clearly there had been quite a lot to discuss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The knock on the door finally happened around 7:15, and Stiles glanced in the mirror before he opened the door, just to make sure that there were no awkward stains on his shirt and his hair wasn’t a complete trainwreck. Because apparently making a good impression mattered now that they were potentially going to bone later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the weather?” Derek stood in front of his door, dressed to kill. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seven inches, coming in hard,” Stiles had clearly lost a few brain cells, getting hard that fast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was probably the reason why Stiles mostly saw Derek in henleys and jeans. Because if he’d seen Derek dressed like this the first time he’d met him? His tongue would have lolled out and he would have ruined the first impression even more than he already had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I come in?” Derek actually asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can come anywhere,” Stiles grinned dumbly. “Anywhere.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was barely even a double entendre, but he’d gotten it out there, and now it was up to Derek to see what he wanted to do and where he wanted to go with it. At least he now knew that Stiles was still very much up for it - quite literally at the moment, because Derek looked just lickable in those slacks and the button up shirt that had the top two buttons unbuttoned, showing just a peek of chest hair and the lines of Derek’s throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was this what heaven looked like? Stiles wouldn’t be surprised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Derek locked the door behind him. “Bedroom?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well then, apparently Derek hadn’t changed his mind either. That should have been a good sign, except Derek was moving faster than human speed, and that was not something he’d ever done before. Sure, Derek could have been different in bed than he was as a friend, but Stiles was pretty sure that there was something else going on here. Something that possibly didn’t have a damn thing to do with Stiles - some outside source that had influenced Derek into stepping it up. Stiles was just hoping Derek wouldn’t take it too far. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not for Stiles, but for Derek himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You move fast,” Stiles was trying so very hard to catch up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, sorry,” Derek withdrew, and Stiles was left reeling. “I just had a day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d somehow gotten to the bedroom already, and Stiles was pretty sure that teleportation had to have been involved somehow. It was that fast, and that made him all the more sure that he needed to check in before this went somewhere just to prove a point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me about it?” Stiles figured he was going to offer, like he always did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My meeting was a covert set-up,” Derek sighed so hard that Stiles was worried that he was going to sprain something. “Even my boss is now trying to push me into a relationship I don’t want. And because he has no idea what my type is, I almost made her cry. She was mousy and shy, because that’s apparently the kind of vibe I give off. Shy and a homebody.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yep, that was definitely going to do it, yet another person trying that well-intentioned bullshit in the hopes that it would somehow fix Derek. As if there was something about him that needed to be fixed. As if his life was just going to magically be perfect if he had some perfect partner by his side - always a cute girl these days. Did people not know that Derek wasn’t picky about gender, just about everything else? Okay, maybe Stiles wasn’t all that surprised that Derek played those cards close to the vest - like he did with every card in his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shy, you?” Stiles was trying so hard not to bust a gut. “That’s fucking hilarious. You’re the farthest thing from shy. You’re definitely a homebody, but you’re totally not shy. And you’d walk all over someone who was that quiet and shy. You need someone loud.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles wasn’t just trying to suggest himself as a partner - because holy hell that was just not a good idea - but he was trying to say that he was here and he was loud and they could probably  drown out the bullshit together. Also, yeah, Derek was never going to be happy with someone meek and shy, not in the long run. He needed someone who said no, but also knew when to say hell yes when Derek didn’t want to be a burden. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And let me guess,” Derek apparently knew exactly where he was going with this, “you can be loud in bed as well as out?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, so Derek was at least going to acknowledge the surface layer of his comment - which was a pleasant surprise. Stiles would happily wait and see where this was going from here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know me so well,” Stiles was delighted that Derek was playing along. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I felt like such an asshole,” Derek sighed. “I made up a date that I had to get to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fake date lie. Stiles had used that one before, and he was pretty sure that he’d use it again before the month was out. He used it to get out of awkward conversations, but also to get out of working overtime for the fourth time that week just because everyone assumed that he wouldn’t have any other plans. And maybe he didn’t, but that was on purpose, because sometimes even Stiles needed a break from other people. Derek totally didn’t count. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A date with my dick,” Stiles wasn’t done with the juvenile humor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re an idiot and it’s not even remotely charming,” Derek told him so matter-of-factly that Stiles knew it was past time to do better. “Now I have to tell him about the date next time I see him, and it has to be good enough that I’ll have an excuse not to date his daughter. His daughter, Stiles. I almost made his daughter cry today.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well that was just terrible, and also, way for Derek’s boss slash coworker to put him in an extremely awkward position where he didn’t feel like he could just say no without insulting his boss and making the daughter cry. Surely the offer had been genuine and not meant to make Derek uncomfortable or back him into a corner - but that was where it had ended up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It has to be a very bad date,” Stiles offered a different solution. “Bad enough that you wouldn’t want to date for a while. Something that he wouldn’t dare ask about.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles knew all about how people who were happy in love either wanted to hear about the perfect date or about the date from hell. The former reinforced their belief that people could only be happy in relationships, and the latter reinforced their belief that clearly they were better off in a relationship because they didn’t have to deal with terribly awkward dates anymore. Either way, the asker felt like they’d gotten it right, and they usually backed the hell off for a while. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If necessary, the aftermath of the bad date could be played up to get out of future outings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you actually an evil genius?” Derek thought that was important to ask, apparently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, I’ve just done this before,” Stiles shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was all pretty much new to Derek it seemed, which was ridiculous because people should be falling all over themselves to date him. Though, maybe they did and Derek either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and he’d just recently started accepting more invitations. Even if he didn’t actually know that most of them would turn into blind dates in disguise. Derek was opening up to the world - finally, after some dark times - and people took it as permission to set him up with every vaguely interesting single person they knew. And because Derek didn’t know any of the tricks of being both single and ready to mingle, he was floundering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Stiles would be happy to pass on some of his best stuff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This?” Derek motioned vaguely between the two of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ve never slept together before,” Stiles had to be a pain before getting to the more serious answer. “Have I done the friends with benefits thing before? In college, once or twice, but that was more fuckbuddies than friends with benefits. I wasn’t really friends with them before, it was just a regular hookup without being in a relationship or caring about monogamy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In college, he hadn’t had the time or energy for a steady relationship most of the time. He’d fallen in love a lot, but nothing had ever seemed to last more than a couple of weeks, and at some point he’d just stopped trying for anything that was more than that, anything that would outlast the semester or perhaps even college itself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though the monogamy thing was making him sound like someone who’d fuck anything that moved, and that was just not Stiles. To each their own, but that wasn’t him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that I’m not the monogamy kind,” Stiles felt like he had to explain that. “I’m usually more of a serial monogamist. I find someone and get far too attached far too quickly, and then I find out about some of their awful habits or ideas, or they get freaked out by me going from zero to sixty in a hot second, or they get pissed that my job gets in the way of fun dates… And that’s the end of that. My relationships don’t tend to last that long.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It probably didn’t sound all that much better, but at least it was more honest. He wasn’t trying to lie to Derek - being friends who slept together meant that he didn’t have to lie about some of his less admirable qualities or his past relationships. He didn’t have to hide anything because Derek had already heard a ton of his embarrassing stories. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did some research,” Derek admitted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles kind of wanted to hug him, because clearly Derek had done some Googling in his attempt to make sense of this. Derek liked knowing what was about to happen, liked knowing that he could exert at least some level of control over his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Stiles was going to ask about those issues. Not ever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You googled friends with benefits and watched the Mila Kunis movie?” Stiles had to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a movie?” Derek asked, and Stiles just wanted to bang him so hard. “I just looked at some things online and I feel like they were onto something. We need rules.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course they did, because that way Derek could make sense of everything and stick this thing into a neat little box so that friend Stiles and fuckbuddy Stiles could both fit into Derek’s life without anything actually having to change. To Derek, all change was bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course we do,” Stiles tried so hard not to let the amusement show. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you laugh at me I’m leaving,” Derek warned, and suddenly it wasn’t nearly as hilarious anymore. “I just think that we need to be clear about our wishes and expectations. For example, if either of us starts dating anyone, this is done.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was being perfectly sensible and it was perfectly endearing. It made Stiles want to smile, not because any of this was particularly funny, but because sometimes he just really cared about Derek. Sometimes he just wanted to tell Derek how much Stiles appreciated him, even though Derek wouldn’t appreciate Stiles talking about that appreciation. So he kept a lid on the smile and thought of his own addendum to Derek’s rule. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds good,” Stiles nodded. “And we’re not keeping it a secret. I mean, I’m not renting a skywriter and telling everyone I know, but I think we should be able to be open about it. Keeping secrets is the easiest way to make it feel sordid and unbalance the friendship. Because I don’t want to be your dirty little secret, and you shouldn’t be mine either.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made their interactions seem tawdry, and soon they were going to get paranoid about mentioning when they were spending time together and then they’d spend less time together to keep people from getting even the slightest bit suspicious about what was going on between the two of them and Stiles was not about that unnecessary angst life. Also, that was definitely going to end up affecting their friendship - and that was the last thing Stiles wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We tell each other if we’re sleeping with someone else,” Derek ducked his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was as if he thought that asking for something like that would be a problem. Like he was asking for too much for even mentioning any kind of exclusivity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely, dude,” Stiles was quick to reassure him. “You’re my friend and I respect you and I want us both to be open and honest and </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Besides, I don’t need anyone else - I’m pretty sure you’ll barely get any use out of me if work keeps being this bad.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, he managed to make it sound like a joke, but he was a little worried that he couldn’t be what Derek needed, even though Derek wasn’t even asking for that much. Stiles had heard a hundred times over that he had a lot to give, a lot of love to give even, but right now he just felt like he was an empty vessel who didn’t have anything to offer to anyone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll do,” Derek snarked at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fine,” Stiles nodded along. “No romance. That’s not what this is. I am going to be complimenting you, though. That’s just what I do in bed. Ask any of my exes. Or don’t, just in case they have less than outstanding reviews.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had the sneaking suspicion that Derek would do well with praise, that he might just grow to like being praised for being good to someone, for caring and for making Stiles feel good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like to bite,” Derek returned. “I leave marks. I like it when you smell of me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently this had become an opportunity for the both of them to start sharing their preferences, which was something that Stiles was very open to. Too often had he jumped into bed with someone only to discover that their preferences didn’t match up at all. Girls who didn’t even like to hear him talk about wanting a finger - or something else - up his ass, and dudes who only ever wanted him to bottom for them because they had the mistaken impression that the one who took it up the ass was somehow the less manly one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was sure that Derek wasn’t like that, but still it was better to discover any matches and mismatches now than to get to it when they were already halfway round the bases. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t expect me to stop talking in bed,” Stiles started sharing some of his own issues, simply because he thought this was an excellent idea. “You can’t shut me up, so please don’t think that because I’m not quiet that you’re not blowing my mind. You are. You will.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no way that Derek was not going to absolutely blow his mind. Unless Derek suddenly busted out some of Stiles’ absolute deal breakers and he wasn’t willing to compromise about it, Stiles was sure that their friendly chemistry would translate to sex as well. They’d bicker the whole time, probably, but that really didn’t have to be a bad thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stubbornness and need to one up each other alone had interesting applications in bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t lick or kiss my stomach,” Derek was looking away again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anywhere?” Stiles was trying not to mourn getting his mouth all over all of that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek’s chest was glorious, and Stiles had only ever caught glimpses of it when Derek had come in after a run in the summer. He had been anticipating getting his hands on it, and his mouth, because Derek deserved to be worshipped, damn it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Below the navel,” Derek clarified. “She used to… I… Just don’t. Please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Would this be a bad time to just give Derek a big damn hug? Because he really looked like he could use one. He was purposefully combing through bad memories to make sure that they wouldn’t happen again, and that was not only brave as fuck, but also just… an incredible show of strength. Stiles wasn’t going to ask, not ever. He’d memorize a hundred rules, or a thousand, if it was going to make Derek feel more comfortable doing this with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem,” Stiles tried to play that one as cool as possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like humiliation,” Derek continued, getting progressively more vulnerable. “Don’t make dog jokes in bed, ever. No eager puppy, none of that. You do, and we’re done.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Humiliation really wasn’t his thing, so honestly he didn’t see any problem there. In fact, he was just glad that Derek was willing and able to communicate so clearly about what he did and did not want from Stiles. It seemed to be taking a lot out of him, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re drunk or have taken any drugs,” Derek had more to say still. “We don’t do anything. If you ever suspect there is something off about me, we don’t do anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was starting to get a really fucking bleak picture of the people Derek had been with before, and he really did not like it one bit. It made him want to get all the information, use all of his Dad’s resources and call in favors from anyone who could help him to make sure that none of these people could ever get within a hundred feet of Derek ever again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was a werewolf, he should have had all the power in his relationships. And yet people had taken advantage of him in every possible way, leaving him to feel like he couldn’t even ask for the most basic levels of decency from a partner. Stiles was going to make sure that by the time whatever this thing was had come to an end, Derek had some realistic expectations about how he should be treated. Like a damn god. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cuddles only,” Stiles nodded. “Absolutely, dude.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, he’d missed sex, and missed having good sex more than anything - because one nights stands were just scratching an itch, they never quite lived up to the hype - but it was the cuddles that he really couldn’t do without. He hoped Derek was the afterglow kind of dude. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You aren’t saying no?” Derek looked at him like he was crazy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t heard anything I’d want to say no to,” Stiles shrugged, because none of this was even close to being a deal breaker. “As long as you’re going to let me blow you at least a couple times, because I have really fucking missed giving blow jobs. Oh, and rimming. Your ass is made for it. Do you top exclusively, or would you….” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped when he saw that Derek was just gawking at him for no real reason. Like, was what he’d said that weird? He really didn’t think that talking about his love for sucking cock was that weird, especially since Derek was going to find out real soon how much Stiles loved getting on his knees and tasting that velvety soft skin and the heft of a thick cock stretching his jaw and yep, Derek was definitely still looking at him like he said something outlandish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Stiles really didn’t understand why Derek would look at him like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t make any sense,” Derek settled on that as an explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was not the first time someone had said something like that to him or about him, and it wasn’t even the first time that Derek had said something along these lines. So he wasn’t surprised as much as just curious what had tripped Derek up this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had just been practicing open and honest communication, after all.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m going to need a bit more than that,” Stiles was not going to push too hard, but this seemed like it was important. “Is there something weird about me blowing you? Blowing you a lot - like, seriously dude, I will be on my knees for you every day if work allows me. Or is it the rimming you have a problem with? Wolves can’t catch diseases, so I could just…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, Stiles’ oral fixation had always been a thing and instead of taking out on innocent pens or the strings of his hoodies, he had found a much more productive way to deal with it. It just, it had been a while and Stiles really fucking missed giving oral. The last couple times he’d hooked up, he’d been with a woman, so it really had been a particularly long time since he’d gotten to suck a dick. And Derek looked like he had a pretty damn great one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He really couldn’t wait to get his mouth all over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d want to fuck me?” Derek finally asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hell to the fucking yeah,” Stiles needed to make it very clear that he enthusiastically consented to every bit of that. “People always assume I just want to get fucked. And yeah, sometimes, sure, but not every time, not all the time. You’d look fucking hot riding me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he immediately started picturing exactly that, probably making the entire apartment stink of his arousal to Derek. But he knew that this was a very rare opportunity potentially being presented to him, a sight that not many people had gotten to lay eyes on. Because Derek didn’t do the one night stand thing, and he probably wouldn’t bottom with anyone he wasn’t sure he could trust to respect him and take care of him during and after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And those were definitely things that Stiles could do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unless you’re not comfortable with that,” Stiles had to remind Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m comfortable,” Derek was almost rushing to reassure him. “Maybe not immediately, but yes, eventually. If we want to do this again. I would want to… I like…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, so it wasn’t just a thing that Derek didn’t mind doing, it was something that he actually wanted, but was just a little worried about. Stiles could totally handle that - he could do anything that was needed to make sure that Derek was going to be comfortable with anything that they did together. He was pretty damn good at looking after people, if he did say so himself. And Derek clearly wasn’t used to being taken care of by anyone, so Stiles would just have to ease him into it a little. And yeah, he heard the dirty joke as soon as he’d thought it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like being fucked as much as you do doing the fucking,” Stiles was going to be crass here, because maybe it was going to help Derek get over whatever Puritanical thing he had going on at the moment. “Good. I’ll make it good for you. Both ways. I’m good at it. Actually, going both ways is kind of my thing. But you probably know that by now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, of course he was going to take every possible opportunity to make a bisexual joke - that was basically in the bisexual handbook that technically didn’t exist. And the fact that it made Derek roll his eyes and act like Stiles had tortured him was just a bonus. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Derek totally thought that Stiles was hilarious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was terrible,” Derek sighed, pretending he hated the joke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re into it,” Stiles shrugged. “And if you play your cards right, you could be into me soon.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That one was even worse, and he totally knew it too. And so did Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, if this hadn’t actually driven Derek off, nothing could. Which was probably unconsciously the reason why he’d done it. His brain was kind of an asshole that way. If Derek had seen all of that, and knew about a ton of his more embarrassing moments, and he still wanted to bang him, then their friendship was totally safe from ruin by their new arrangement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unless you have other things that you’d like to discuss first,” Stiles acted all innocent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t,” Derek shook his head, and then just waited. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait, was Stiles going to have to be the one to take the initiative here? Was this Derek trying to give him one last out, or was it him giving Stiles a chance to choose what he wanted to do first? Because both options were fine, but he preferred the latter, seeing as he’d compiled a mental list of all of the things that he would like to do for and to Derek. He’d tried writing it down at work, but then Erica had popped up and tried to read what he was writing and he’d pretty much died of embarrassment. So he kept the list confined to his own head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right now though, he had a number one with a bullet that he couldn’t wait to get around to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool,” Stiles nodded. “Are you going to let me suck your dick first?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second he got the green light to that, he was going to get Derek naked and just go to town - he probably shouldn’t skip the kissing though, so maybe they just had to start with that and Stiles just had to be a little patient while they worked their way up to the blowjob. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you must,” Derek sighed like it was actually a hardship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hah. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>ship. Classic. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>After that first time, Stiles had pretty much just collapsed into his own bed the second Derek went back to his own apartment. He’d slept for twelve hours and woke up sticky yet sated and already thinking of what they could try next. Because this needed to happen again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had fucked him so well, so hard, so deep, that Stiles was pretty sure that he was going to be ruined for humans forever. No way that someone without werewolf strength could sex him up that good and wear him the fuck out. Shit, Stiles was pretty sure that some of his brains had seeped out of his ears after the second orgasm - he’d literally come his brains out, which he was pretty sure he told Derek before trying to sit up and falling right back into bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, he really hoped that he had managed to live up to everything that Derek brought to the table. Or, more exactly, to the bed. He hoped that it had been good for Derek as well. Sure, he hadn’t voiced any complaints, and he’d thanked Stiles like a giant loser, but also it had been like four days and they hadn’t so much as kissed since. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now that Stiles’ libido had been forcibly awakened, he couldn’t shut it the fuck up. Which was probably why his ‘accidental’ penis drawing on the weather map thing had happened and then promptly went viral. Because he had dick on the brain pretty much all the time now and when that happened at work he started doing stupid shit like that in the hopes that Derek was watching the show and that he would comment on it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The whole becoming a viral sensation thing was just a happy accident. Sure, initially the network hadn’t been happy, but they’d gotten a ton of new viewers and engagement online had spiked, so they couldn’t really do anything about it without pissing them off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t heard from Derek yet, though. Which made this relatively slow night, as he waited for the next broadcast, just go by so very slowly. Until his phone rang. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the weather?” Derek actually bothered to call him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something with </span>
  <em>
    <span>cum</span>
  </em>
  <span>ulonimbus,” Stiles was too exhausted to think of a proper pun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, just because it was a slow night didn’t mean that it hadn’t been an extremely long one, especially with the extra meetings he’d been dragged into because of the whole penis drawing thing. He was just glad that this shift was almost over and he could go home and just sleep for a solid day or so - or maybe just a solid eight hours. That was enough of a rarity these days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re actually the worst,” Derek responded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you still find me attractive for some reason,” Stiles was grinning at the mere thought of that, because it was doing wonders for his self-esteem. “Did you see the video?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inquiring minds needed to know. Because he didn’t actually do it just for Derek, but he was definitely a big part of the reason - Stiles never went for conventional booty call messages, apparently. This was the most obvious way he could think of to let Derek know that he was absolutely open for business - so to say - and that Derek was welcome to come and give it to him whenever. Because he could find them a private spot at work if he got desperate and bribed Erica (his hair and make up artist) to keep people from bothering him for thirty minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d do it. He’d done it for her before when her husband showed up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I saw the video,” Derek sighed dramatically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mission Mating Call had been a success, which was good. Now it was up to Derek to actually let Stiles know if he wanted to respond to that mating call, and if he wanted to do that now or later, if at all. Stiles was hoping for right the fuck now, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patience had always been extremely overrated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?” Stiles felt like he deserved an actual response to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is no way you didn’t do it on purpose,” Derek just had to challenge him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course he hadn’t done it completely accidentally. He wasn’t actually that naive, and he was always very aware of just what he was drawing on the screen. So Stiles wasn’t going to be claiming innocence to someone who actually knew what he was like - it was a whole different story when the network people asked, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t a complete idiot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stiles tried to look innocent, even though Derek couldn’t actually see it. “It just completely slipped my mind that when drawing the particular configuration for this summer storm, the pattern would look like a penis.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When saying it loud like that, it just sounded even more preposterous. Stiles had been the king of the terrible dick jokes back in middle school and high school, and he actually hadn’t gotten any less immature for most of his college years, at least about this particular topic. Clearly he hadn’t changed that much since, especially not since Derek had been forced to listen to a whole bunch of those jokes before they first hooked up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Derek secretly enjoyed those jokes - he almost laughed a couple of times. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a terrible liar,” Derek didn’t believe it for one second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was not new information to Derek, because no one could actually be a good liar around a lie-detecting werewolf. And also, Stiles didn’t even try to lie to Derek anymore (or at least, didn’t try to get away with a lie in front of Derek) and not just because of the werewolf thing. Also because Derek knew him far too well to believe that Stiles wouldn’t do this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, are you calling to talk about my dick drawing skills?” Stiles was getting curious now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Derek was being weirdly evasive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles hadn’t known that Derek was an art critic, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to end the conversation, because he suspected that the ‘maybe’ was just cover for the real reason Derek was calling when he knew that Stiles had a bit of a break before he had to go on next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clearly Derek had been impressed and perhaps even turned on by the fake dick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I’m at work right now,” Stiles looked around to see if anyone was listening in, “but I’d be happy to find somewhere private if you want me to ask you what you’re wearing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phone sex? Totally not something he’d expected Derek to be into, but it was the best kind of surprise and Stiles was absolutely down to roll with that. Heck, if he wasn’t in the midst of a very open space with several colleagues with super hearing around, he would have started the sexy talk right away. Because he was already chubbing up in his slacks and trying not to be too obvious about that. Derek just had that kind of effect on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not the most interesting question you could ask,” Derek was playing with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh really,” Stiles was positively delighted at this turn of events. “What would be the better question? What are you doing right now?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, was he currently imagining Derek naked in his bedroom, rubbing one out while talking to Stiles? Abso-fucking-lutely. Not just because he was imagining Derek naked a lot ever since he’d seen the glorious sight for the first time - also because Derek was being evasive about what he was up to, basically inviting Stiles to let his dirty mind take over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Waiting for someone to let me in,” Derek actually answered the question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Visiting someone?” Stiles was trying to put it together. “You know I’m not home, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would totally fucking suck if Derek was waiting in front of Stiles’ apartment right now, because Stiles still had at least an hour of work to go, if not more. And he was probably going to be extremely fucking tired when he did get home - even though he was going to try valiantly to get himself ready for action if Derek wanted to get something going later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wouldn’t be anything impressive, but Stiles was still totally down for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why I didn’t go to your </span>
  <em>
    <span>apartment</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Derek emphasized the last word, which was odd. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, Derek wasn’t at Stiles’ apartment, that made sense, but why only emphasize that last word, and not the whole phrase? If he’d said he wasn’t at </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stiles’</span>
  </em>
  <span> apartment Stiles would have guessed that he was at his own apartment, but now that he’d said that he wasn’t at Stiles’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>apartment</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Stiles was pretty sure Derek was in another place associated with him. And since Stiles didn’t have a lot of places like that, he was going to jump to an interesting conclusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit, you’re here?” Stiles finally put it together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” was all that Derek had to say to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few days of not fucking, and barely seeing each other for more than a few seconds, Derek wanted it bad enough to visit Stiles at work for a quickie. Honestly, Stiles had never felt more like a sex god, and he felt stupidly flattered that Derek would go to the effort when he could have just waited a few hours until Stiles got home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Also, his blood rushed to his dick at a supernatural speed because Derek was here to have some kind of sex with him. Heck, even if Derek was just here to say hi or to kiss him or make out with him a little, Stiles was still totally fucking down for all of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Derek made the first move, and it was totally fucking hot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let them know to let you in,” Stiles was more than a little flustered. “Tell them you’re here for me, okay? Can’t wait to see you. And what you’re wearing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A henley and jeans, clearly, but Stiles just couldn’t resist trying to rile Derek, so that maybe Stiles wasn’t the only one who was feeling a little discombobulated. This was literally a fantasy come to life, and Stiles was already working through the possibilities in his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was probably going to need to pay off Erica, or owe her another favor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Really fucking worth it, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek actually hung up on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course Stiles immediately shot a message to security, telling them that his visitor, Derek Hale, should be allowed on set. The response was almost immediate, because the security department was always quick to respond to such requests, used as they were to working with divas who needed something from them that very second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles usually wasn’t counted among those divas, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Isaac immediately sat down next to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not,” Stiles shrugged. “Not romantically. Professionally, though, sometimes. Therapy is a really useful experience, you should try it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac and Stiles had never gotten along all that well - not because they actually didn’t like each other, but because they enjoyed needling each other and their snippy banter apparently drew in the millennial crowd. And since Stiles, as one of those millennials, knew how little his generation watched actual live content related to the weather, he kept it up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be a dick,” Erica had to get involved before Stiles and Isaac got into yet another kerfuffle in public. “Just tell us who you’re sexting, or having phone sex with.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Erica was insatiably curious in general, and even more so when it came to who her coworkers were sleeping with. She was the only person in his life who still tried to set him up with people, even though Stiles’d had to bail on the last three set-ups due to work, and he’d made an ass of himself with the girl she’d tried to make him date before that. She was just determined to see everyone as happy in love as she was - it had gone past adorable months ago and had now reached incredibly annoying and an invasion of privacy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel sorry for Boyd if you think that’s what phone sex is,” Stiles sighed dramatically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I regularly ask platonic friends what they’re wearing,” Erica wasn’t buying it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Stiles was trying to hide what was going on - he just wasn’t down with them just assuming all kinds of shit about what was going on between him and Derek. If they’d bothered to ask him about Derek instead of assuming that Stiles was seeing someone, maybe he would have volunteered more information. But no, they just had to make an ass out of themselves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was my neighbor, Derek,” Stiles shrugged. “We’re close.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Close was one way of saying it, one way that was going to infuriate Erica with its vagueness and make Isaac roll his eyes at him yet again. Luckily, Stiles was not going to leave them hanging indefinitely, especially because he’d just gotten himself the perfect excuse to avoid more of Erica’s blind dates. At least for the next few weeks, maybe even months if Derek still wanted to do this thing a few months from now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wouldn’t be surprised if Derek met someone he actually wanted to date soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quite a neighbor,” Isaac thought that was a great time to be a dick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re sleeping together,” Stiles thought about the rule. “So you can stop setting me up with people. I’m not interested in dating. I’m too busy with work and I’m getting my needs met.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>None of that was a lie. He wasn’t interested in dating - he didn’t have the time to meet someone and do all the awkward first and second and third date stuff where they had to get to know each other and avoid all kinds of emotional minefields. He wanted to be in an established relationship where the other person knew what he was like and knew what he wanted and knew that he was doing the best he could with the amount of time he’d been given. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that wasn’t his reality, so he’d found another way to meet his needs. A mutually beneficial way, with someone he knew and trusted. Who he didn’t have to act like a nicer version of himself around - because Derek had already seen most of his terrible habits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not just your sexual needs,” Erica had gotten herself some ideas. “The flirting needs as well, clearly. You can’t wait to see him? That’s not just banging.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That bit had just slipped out. And it also hadn’t been a lie - just like everything else he’d been saying, it had been completely true. Because it had been a few days since he’d spent any actual time with Derek so of course he wanted to see him again and soon. Because they were friends and neighbors and so they hung out together all the time, and they were basically still in the honeymoon period of this friends with benefits thing. So yeah, this made complete sense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles couldn’t wait to see Derek again. With or without sex. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re friends who fuck,” Stiles was totally not off-balance right now. “That means I like spending time with him. Otherwise we wouldn’t be friends. Or sleeping together.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Stiles hadn’t occasionally had sex with people he couldn’t actually stand. But those were moments of weakness, and one night stands only - no repeats or even drunken backsliding into a two time mistake. It was just nothing like the situation he had going on with Derek right now. His colleagues just didn’t understand the friends portion of friends with benefits, but he would happily explain it to them. After he got off with Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a damn idiot,” Isaac had to get his opinion in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to need a favor if you want me to get you some privacy,” Erica had already moved on to the bargaining stage of the conversation. “And it had better be a good one, because they want me to keep an eye on you today, after that stunt you pulled.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes the people in charge treated Erica as his unofficial babysitter, because none of the other meteorologists on staff were as young and impulsive as Stiles (ADHD made him a fucking delight, okay?). And none of the other meteorologists on staff drew dicks on air and watched porn in the dressing room just because they were really fucking bored and really horny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll make it worth your while if Derek makes it worth my while,” Stiles grinned smugly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which he would, because there was no way that any kind of sex act with Derek wasn’t going to completely rock his world. He could tell that much based on that one time - not that he was going to reveal to Isaac and Erica that it had only happened once so far, because he knew that Isaac would be a dick about it and Erica would get all protective and tell him not to get too involved too fast. Because apparently he couldn’t say nice things to the person he was sleeping with without those idiots thinking that he was in an actual relationship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re disgusting,” Isaac turned around and left. “I’m going to grab my shit from the dressing room because clearly it won’t be fit for use after you’re done with it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, that wasn’t actually a bad idea. Isaac was going to clear the way for him, and Stiles would totally and happily admit that the scent left behind in the dressing room after he’d had one of his… one on one sessions was not something that Isaac wanted to get on his precious scarves and other ridiculously fancy clothes. Honestly, the dude thought he was a model. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he was totally wrong about that, because the only model present was Stiles’ favorite person in the city. The guy wearing that deliciously tight henley that Stiles had noticed more than once, and those jeans that totally hugged his ass (even more so than most of Derek’s jeans did, and honestly that was really saying something). The guy with no murder brows for once, the guy who’d actually made the effort to pick out his best outfit for seduction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was trying not to be too obvious, but he was swooning a little here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek,” Stiles spotted him immediately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Erica whispered. “Yeah, I can’t blame you. If he was my neighbor, I’d get into baking and need a cup of sugar every single day. You did good, Stiles.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had met Boyd - tall, dark and gorgeous Boyd - and had appreciated Erica’s eye for attractive people. So of course he appreciated her keen observation about Derek as well, and snickered a little under his breath because he knew Derek had probably heard it too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m about to do even better,” Stiles grinned far too widely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have thirty minutes,” Erica warned before she walked away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was thirty minutes enough to do Derek justice? Probably not, but Stiles would be damned if he wasn’t going to give it his very best shot. Because Derek was worth it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You deliver now?” Stiles had to go there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can leave if you’d rather I didn’t,” Derek was trying really hard to sound cocky about it, which told Stiles that he wasn’t actually feeling all that brave. “I don’t have to, you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek clearly hadn’t been sure if Stiles would go along with it, or if he’d even be available for something like this - but he’d gone out on a limb anyway, and Stiles just really needed to award that kind of initiative. Stiles needed to make it very clear to Derek that this could happen whenever he wanted it to - he only had to say it and Stiles would try to make it happen anyway he could. Because Derek letting himself want things was glorious and good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you don’t,” Stiles acknowledged that much. “But you’re here anyway, because you’re practically perfect and because we are both so very good at this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Judging by the bit of Derek’s ears that he could see, he was definitely blushing a little. It was extremely adorable and just made Stiles want to get his hands and mouth all over him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he dragged Derek toward the dressing room, waiting for Isaac to come out and gape at Derek a little before he ran out of there like the hounds of hell were on his tail. Apparently he really didn’t want to hear anything - Stiles already knew that Erica was the one with the semi-voyeuristic tendencies, but apparently Isaac was more awkward about this than Stiles had expected from all of the things he’d overheard Isaac talking about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did that mean it was Stiles (or Derek) in particular he couldn’t stand to listen to? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Both?” Derek said, to cover for his own embarrassment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, do I have something to prove here?” Stiles was very happy to prove anything Derek wanted him to prove. “I could have sworn I showed you how good I am with my mouth.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He distinctly remembered Derek panting and being at a complete loss for words, basically yanking Stiles off before Derek came too soon. Not that it would have been a big deal, because werewolves didn’t have the same kind of refractory period as ordinary humans did - but apparently it was somewhat of a matter of pride. Just like it was for Stiles, because if Derek didn’t think he was doing well enough, he’d just have to go harder this time. Maybe tease even more, draw it out until Derek was begging and pleading. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And honestly, he didn’t mind that idea one bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My turn,” was all that Derek had to say to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Possibly even better, because that was so not what Stiles had been expecting and they’d barely gotten into the room before Derek pushed him up against the door and started working on his belt and zipper. Damn him to ambidextrous hell that was hot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something to prove?” Stiles just had to goad him even more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re ridiculous,” Derek told him, already getting on his knees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man moved fast when he wanted something. Did he miss the bit where Erica told Stiles that they had thirty whole minutes? If Derek kept going this hard, Stiles wasn’t going to need much more than three - and that was probably either a personal best or a personal worst. He totally had stamina, great stamina for a human. But Derek had pulled his slacks down and pulled on his boxer-briefs enough to get Stiles’ dick out. And he was licking his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was he being timed or something? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You aren’t even going to kiss me first?” Stiles might have been pouting a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll kiss you after,” Derek promised before sucking Stiles down with ridiculous ease. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, Stiles knew he was on the larger side of average - no monster dong, but also nothing to sneeze at - and Derek just made that look so easy. Did werewolves also not have a gag reflex or something? Were they supernaturally gifted at sex too? Stiles would not be surprised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Stiles groaned when Derek started to relax his throat. “I can’t believe you. Shit, Derek. Your mouth. You’re so hot, so stupidly hot. I can’t believe this is happening. Did I save orphans in my previous life? Is this actually the good place? Fucking fuck, Derek.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just like he’d previously promised Derek, he was incapable of keeping his mouth shut unless it was otherwise occupied. So he just kept babbling incessantly as Derek did this thing with his tongue that basically made Stiles see Jesus, while at the same time shoving a hand inside his own pants to deal with his own erection. Because this was turning Derek the fuck on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That just made it even better - and even harder to hold back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck, you like it when I talk,” Stiles was going to lose it so damn fast. “I can’t believe that you even exist, Jesus Christ, Derek. You’re so gorgeous, you’re so good to me, so good for me, Derek. I’m going to give you the best orgasm for this. Shit. Oh God, are you trying to kill me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The suction was incredible, and Derek’s free hand was playing with Stiles’ balls like he knew how fucking sensitive they were. Stiles couldn’t believe that he was still mostly dressed for this, knees weak and leaning against the door for support while Derek essentially sucked out his soul through his dick. Heck, Stiles would have given him his soul for this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He honestly didn’t care if Derek was trying to murder him, because it was just that good. Shit, this was totally why they called orgasms the little death - though there was nothing little about this. This was of massive scope, something pretty much life-changing, and no matter how good Stiles knew he was at doing this, Derek was even better somehow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was going to have to bust out all his best tricks next time. And practice on Derek a lot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles continued to babble. “Shit, just look at you. You’re on your knees for me, and you’re so hot. You like this so much, I love it. I love it. Don’t come yet, please. I want to do you next. I want to lick every inch of you that you’ll let me lick, and I want to get my mouth on that ass of yours. Shit, you need to be riding my face pronto. You’d look so hot, just taking what you want from me. Because you can have that, you can have everything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek groaned, loudly - so loudly that Stiles was pretty sure that at least someone had to have overheard that - and let Stiles into this throat again, deep-throating like his life actually depended on it. Derek’s hand on his own dick had slowed down, and Stiles saw a dark stain spreading on Derek’s underwear - his jeans just barely open enough to avoid any stains on the lighter fabric. Holy shit, that was just… Derek just… Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you just?” Stiles couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Oh fuck, Derek, I’m…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was totally proof that Derek was the hottest creature in existence, coming from jerking himself off while blowing Stiles. Because it turned him on that much to get on his knees for Stiles and make him feel good. To make him feel so good that Stiles couldn’t hold off any longer now that Derek had already come. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles grabbed onto the door, because his knees were totally buckling because he’d had the most intense orgasm of his life just now. And that was saying something, because he’d been so very sure that it couldn’t get more intense than his first time with Derek, feeling like he’d been wrung inside out and remade just to fit Derek inside of his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck, this was a whole new level. If this got any more intense, he wouldn’t survive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh God,” Stiles groaned, trying to make his body work again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just Derek,” the man in question said, his voice still wrecked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, that particular effect wasn’t going to last very long, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t just completely ruining Stiles at this very second - and would probably haunt his wettest dreams for the foreseeable future. Shit, he wished he had the kind of refractory period that werewolves had, because his dick was already making a valiant attempt to get hard again, even though it was just far, far too much right now. There probably wasn’t any blood left in his brain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you just?” Stiles only just realized that Derek had cracked that joke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That took far too long,” Derek said, looking decidedly smug. “And here you basically challenged me by saying that I couldn’t make you lose your mind enough for you to stop talking. You may not have stopped talking, but you definitely stopped thinking.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles wasn’t sure he’d started thinking again yet, busy as he was trying to make his body do his bidding. Thank God that the door was a lot sturdier than he’d expected, and that Derek was annoyingly composed right now, because otherwise Stiles would have just slithered to the floor and stayed there until Erica showed up to drag him back to set. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit,” Stiles cursed, trying to catch his breath. “You’re a demon sent to suck out my soul, and I would happily let you have it. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand any time soon. So we need to figure out a position where I don’t have to stand. Because I owe you one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that they were keeping score - not that Derek knew of anyway, because Stiles was a giver and he was determined to treat Derek like the fucking miracle he was, meaning that Derek had to get the lion’s share of the orgasms. So that meant that Derek was due for at least one more, and by Stiles’ hands or mouth this time. Or Stiles’ dick, but Stiles was just old-fashioned enough to want that first time to take place in an actual bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that was something special for Derek, so while he was pretty sure that candles and rose petals were a no go, he was at least going to aim for the bed that time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he could be creative right now, think of something to make Derek feel good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you don’t,” Derek had to argue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did that one yourself,” Stiles was totally prepared to make this into an argument. “I know you couldn’t handle my hotness, but it’s still my turn. So you pick. And then let me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, Stiles would have done pretty much anything Derek had asked at this point. He was totally down to commit murder (especially if the person was evil) or rob a bank or do something crazy like that, because Derek had just given him sheer bliss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now he didn’t even want anything in return? Nope, no way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cuddles,” Derek chose a surprising kind of repayment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And kisses?” Stiles had to ask. “You promised!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some people might have wussed out about kissing after blow jobs, but Stiles really wasn’t one of those people. He never minded swallowing after oral sex, so of course he wasn’t going to get cute about kissing after. Actually, it was kind of fucking hot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Derek pretended he was disappointed at the reminder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a pretty terrible liar though, so Stiles managed to mostly get himself decent again before sinking down to his knees as well to kiss the life out of Derek, and to lick his own taste out of his lover’s mouth. It was indulgent and sloppy and crazy hot, and he honestly didn’t care that he was probably ruining his slacks a little bit - or a lot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Totally fucking worth it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles lost all track of time, so he had no idea if half an hour had actually passed when the interruption came and ruined the vibe. The flow. The… everything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need you on set in five, Stilinski,” Erica hollered from the hallway. “Please make sure that the dressing room isn’t covered in semen and sweat. Other people do work here as well. And good job on the boyfriend, he’s both gorgeous and intimidating. Are you sure he doesn’t want to go into entertainment as well? He has the face for it. And the body.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had all the things, Stiles agreed with that much. He was just going to ignore the boyfriend comment and not look at Derek while Stiles fixed his face and hair in the dressing room mirror - and wow, honestly, it would have been so hot if that mirror had been at the right angle from the door to allow Stiles to have a look at Derek on his knees, and… Yeah, he really shouldn’t be thinking too hard about that, because willing down an erection was no fun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was already difficult enough to watch Derek clean himself up a little at the small sink, pushing Stiles aside a little to do so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My boo is the star of NYU’s Spanish lit department, thank you very much,” Stiles had to defend Derek’s choice of career. “He’s got his shit together and works normal hours, when he isn’t preparing for his courses for the next semester or grading at all hours of the day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So right now, mostly relaxing and normal hours if prep work had to get done at all in between working on his latest publication. Yes, Derek had totally been published before and Stiles would be damned if it didn’t turn him on that Derek was a fellow intellectual. Sure, Stiles’ level of Spanish didn’t go much further than the library rap from Community, but still! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah,” Erica was almost audibly rolling her eyes. “Use some mouthwash, will you? You probably have jizz breath, and no one wants that on camera.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek’s ears were slightly red again, but Stiles refused to let him be too embarrassed about the amazing thing he’d just done. Shit, he was going to try and do everything he could to encourage Derek to keep being wonderfully impulsive and seductive like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re incredible,” Stiles just had to let Derek know before he had to go live. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come over tomorrow morning,” Derek told him in return. “I’ll show you incredible.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clearly, the best kind of death was coming for Stiles, and he was honestly really looking forward to it. He was going to have so much trouble trying not to think about just what Derek had planned for the both of them while he was trying to do a mostly dickless weather report. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh fuck, you are trying to kill me,” Stiles complained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With his dick,” Erica was now right outside the door. “Which he can totally take another go at in the morning. Just not right now. We have a show to make, and you’ve already scandalized the public more than enough for one day. Move it, Stilinski.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a heavy sigh, Stiles finally opened the door and revealed himself to Erica, who immediately started fussing about the mess he’d managed to make of his face and hair. It was almost enough to distract him from Derek, who was staring at him with a stupidly fond look on that gorgeous face of his. It just made Stiles want to cling to him and refuse to work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he probably wasn’t allowed to go live while clinging to Derek like a barnacle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow,” Stiles pressed one last kiss against Derek’s lips before he let him leave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kiss wasn’t meant to lead to anything, but the way Derek immediately seemed to release some tension was so very tempting. Still, Stiles had to let him walk away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a view, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, totally not your boyfriend.” </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>After about seven hours of sleep in ten hours spent in bed (look, Stiles couldn’t sleep before he’d jerked off twice because he just kept thinking about Derek and how hot he’d been), and a long and very thorough shower, Stiles finally felt like a somewhat functioning adult again. And very ready to just get dirty all over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because he was assuming that Derek was planning for something along those lines. And that was exactly the kind of incredible he needed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he checked his reflection in the mirror - just to make sure he hadn’t missed a spot while shaving again, and to see if the non-Mets shirt had been a good choice - he was tempted to make fun of himself for being impatient to see Derek again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was funny how this was their third date - hook-up? - in less than a week. When Stiles had been dating someone, a while ago, he hadn’t managed to see them more than once every other week or so. With their work schedule and his work schedule and how fucking dog tired he’d been for most of that brief relationship… It had just been impossible to make it work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet, somehow Derek just hauled ass to Stiles’ place of work just for a booty call and some kisses, even though they were ‘just’ friends who fucked. Not that there was anything ‘just’ about being friends, because fuck that bullshit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, it was… It was nice to have someone who put in the effort to not only rock his world, but also reach out in times of need (yeah, dirty, right). Someone who came to him and didn’t just expect him to shift his schedule around and miraculously be able to be free every single weekend, the entire weekend. Like, that didn’t just happen in his line of work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek didn’t expect him to move mountains, he just hoped that Stiles was willing to involve him in the free time he did have. Which was basically all that he could have asked for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he showed up at Derek’s apartment and knocked like a polite human being, even though Derek had probably smelled him coming the second Stiles opened up the door to his own apartment. Still, he was trying to make an effort here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the weather?” Derek asked, because he liked his routines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you not even going to open the door first?” Stiles pretended to gasp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was weird to be talking through the door, because it felt like being on uneven footing, while also feeling like Derek was waiting for the password before he let Stiles into his apartment. It was a stupid question Derek kept asking, the kind of inside joke that was barely even a joke, really, but Stiles still really liked that Derek asked every single time. It seemed like it was his way of checking in, of letting Stiles reveal where his head was at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Derek reluctantly opened the door for him. “Come in. How’s the weather?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sentences were strung together, as if Derek was barely able to get through the pleasantries before getting on with what he really wanted to get on with. He looked a little impatient already, but also surprisingly soft compared to the way he’d looked in the jeans and henley last night. The sweatpants were thin enough to make it very obvious to Stiles that Derek was the one who hadn’t bothered with underwear this time, and the t-shirt he was wearing had been washed so many times that it was almost see-through. It looked really soft and comfy though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Stiles really fucking liked it when Derek looked comfortable and at ease. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So happy together,” Stiles rolled his eyes as he responded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would have sung it, except he knew how much of a bad idea that was. Also, yeah, he really was happy, because the dick drawing had earned him a lot of positive attention as well that was going to lead to a raise and the people in charge finally getting on with hiring someone else to fill the gap that had been there for weeks now. Things were coming up Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with Derek waiting for him, looking all soft and approachable? It was totally a good day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Derek clearly didn’t get it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know the song?” Stiles gasped, because this was clearly a tragedy and something he needed to fix right away. “I would sing it for you if it wouldn’t make you want to kill me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His singing voice? Not going to help seduce Derek, and since that was definitely Stiles’ mission in life - or just mission of the day/week/month/year - he was going to try and stick with just babbling and cheesy references for the time being. Because he’d already managed to prove that kind of thing worked on Derek - that and whatever had gotten him to haul ass to Stiles’ work and literally blow his mind. Stiles probably needed to figure out what the reason for that had been, just so he could make sure to do it like, all the damn time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How considerate,” Derek pretended that he wasn’t charmed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he was. For some reason Derek was just really charmed by Stiles’ ridiculousness. And Stiles was going to do whatever he could to make sure that it stayed that way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right now though, he was just really curious about why Derek had basically seduced him into coming over. Honestly, Stiles had a very suspicious mind and it made him want to think that Derek was either planning to do it one last time before he started dating properly, or that Derek wanted to try something that he wasn’t necessarily sure that Stiles would be up for. And honestly, the second option seemed like the more likely one here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So it was past time to just get this show on the road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a very considerate person,” Stiles was not going to be subtle for long. “And lover.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because he also just really wanted to show Derek how good Stiles could make him feel, as a thank you for the night before. And just because he could, because watching Derek get lost in the pleasure was starting to become really fucking addictive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t owe me anything,” Derek was definitely going to make that into a thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I just want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” Stiles exaggerated his pout to draw attention to his lips. “Because I like doing it, and you deserve all that and more. Shit, if you want me to come to your office and blow you, I’m so down. Anytime. Just let me know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shit, the whole ‘fucking in the hot professor’s office’ fantasy was a very good one, and one that he was definitely going to save for later. The risk of getting caught was still there, and the idea of Derek wearing his professional get-up while Stiles hid under his desk and blew him was just too good to forget about. Or they could fuck over Derek’s desk - another fantasy that Stiles would be happy to make into a reality. Anything Derek wanted, basically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m mostly doing my research at home,” Derek just had to correct him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reality really didn’t have to have a place in any of these fantasies, but whatever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, when the academic year starts,” Stiles meaningfully nudged at Derek. “I promise not to make any kind of shitty teacher student roleplay jokes because I know you hate that. I promise to keep any roleplay strictly to the teacher on teacher variety. I’ll be the sexy science professor who’s entranced by the way you recite Neruda. That’s barely even a stretch for me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, Stiles was a total romantic at heart, and Neruda was both extremely romantic and super fucking hot, and hearing Derek recite it in the original Spanish? He’d only heard bits and phrases through the wall that one time when he’d been eavesdropping like a total creep, but it had been more than enough to make him want to hear it all the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it was totally fine to sort of admit that to Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bedroom,” was all that Derek had to say to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool,” Stiles nodded. “Cool cool cool. Anything in particular you want to try? Because if you want to try any of the more creative positions, I’m going to need to stretch first. I’m flexible from all the yoga, but I really don’t want to get a bad cramp mid-sex. It’s just such a mood killer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just like him talking about cramping up was a mood killer, but apparently Derek wasn’t too bothered by it, as he herded Stiles towards the bedroom without giving as much as a hint before they got there. Apparently Derek was craving a hint of mystery - Stiles would be happy to indulge whatever Derek wanted. He was going to make sure Derek was taken care of. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No stretching required for you,” Derek was still happy to be calling the shots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And for you?” Stiles was learning to read him better every day. “Any stretches?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it had been anyone else, Stiles obviously would have made a downward dog joke. But for Derek, he was going to try to be a better person. Because he’d promised that there were not going to be any kind of dog jokes in the bedroom, and he was going to keep that promise even if Derek left him all the openings in the world for such jokes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So instead he waited for Derek to push him down onto the bed and take his clothes off. Because that was totally alright by him, and it seemed like Derek wanted to be in charge of the show today. And Stiles was happy to follow, for a little while at least. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was hoping you’d stretch me,” Derek was barely even managing to look innocent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck,” Stiles’ mind pretty much went blank with the implications. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, they’d discussed it, but Derek had been a bit weird about it, even though Stiles was sure he’d made it very obvious how much he was dying to do just that. Shit, was Derek actually going to let him do that? Was Derek giving him permission?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was this the thing that he’d been worried that Stiles wouldn’t like? Because wow, was he so very wrong about that. Stiles was more worried he’d lose his shit before they got anywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is, if you still want to fuck me,” Derek seemed to think he had to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, here goes,” Stiles was going to run his mouth on the topic for a bit, to reassure Derek that this was definitely what he wanted. “I know you’re strong as hell and you could probably hold me up against the wall while you fuck me - which is definitely something that we should do one of these days… But you letting me worship you? Super hot. Like, letting me touch you all over, getting to know exactly what makes you so hot for me? Incredible.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow he must have found the exact right thing to say here, because Derek’s eyes flashed bright electric blue for a second there - a sight that Stiles had only seen once or twice before - before he started fidgeting with his shirt, as if it was already too hot and too uncomfortable for him to continue being clothed. The pants appeared to be causing an issue as well, as Derek ran his hands up and down his thighs, seemingly to steady himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles,” Derek was whining already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Stiles had to squeeze himself to make sure he wouldn’t lose it too soon. Because clearly this was something that Derek had been wanting for a very long time. He just hadn’t been able to trust anyone to give it to him, not like he trusted Stiles to properly treasure him and worship that ridiculous body of his and make him feel so damn good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you wanna strip for me?” Stiles asked, trying to figure out where this was going, “or do you want me to take your clothes off for you? Reveal that gorgeous body one bit at a time?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek didn’t even bother to answer verbally, immediately yanking that comfy shirt over his head - Stiles was just glad he didn’t actually hear a ripping sound, because Derek needed more comfortable clothes like that. Shit, maybe Stiles was going to have to buy him one of those extra large sweaters with the thumbholes when fall started to hit the city. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hurry,” Derek had already taken all his clothes off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Stiles blatantly refused to rush this. “If you’re going to let me do this, if you’re going to let me make you feel so good, we’re going to take our time. You’re going to get down on the bed, and I’m going to keep my clothes on for a bit. Until I think you’re ready.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, Derek wanted this so bad, almost too bad. And Stiles was just going to have to make sure that they did this the right way, the slow way, at least this first time. If after this, Derek trusted Stiles to do this again, they could go faster. But right now? Stiles was going to be slow and careful, to make sure that Derek was worshipped in the way he deserved to be worshipped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, you’re so beautiful,” Stiles gently traced the vein in Derek’s neck with his mouth. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that right? Ridiculously gorgeous. With those stunning eyes and the cute bunny teeth and the way your blush goes all the way to your ears? With that neck of yours that I’m going to bite. I know I can’t leave a mark, Der, but I’m going to try anyway. Because you’d look so good with my mark on you. So good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was that too much? Was that too possessive? Shit, he could barely even think about that when Derek was lying back on the bed and just letting Stiles so close to such a vulnerable spot on a werewolf’s body. He just wanted to cover Derek with his body, press him down into the mattress and protect him and kiss him and make sure that he wanted no one but Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek responded so beautifully to him that it was almost humbling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like that?” Stiles was awed and delighted by the response. “Good. I’m glad. I’m only going to do things that you like so very much. Because I’m going to make you feel so good, Derek. You’re never going to want anyone else ever again. Just this. Just me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yep, that time he definitely went too far with the whole possessive thing. He took a quick look at Derek’s face to make sure that Derek wasn’t giving him the murder brows because of it, and instead he found a Derek he did not expect, a Derek who had dug his hands into the sheets and basically pressed his vulnerable neck closer to Stiles’ hands and mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiss me,” Derek practically pleaded with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say pretty please,” Stiles had to tease. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that definitely earned him the murder brows. Which he honestly should have expected, but it had been kind of a dick move. Derek didn’t respond to that sort of thing well, and he should have known that instead of letting this power trip of having Derek so under his metaphorical spell get to him. It was to be enjoyed and appreciated. Also, why not kiss him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck you,” Derek growled at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, hint taken,” Stiles wasn’t going to push that part. “I’ll kiss you. I like kissing you. You’re a great kisser. Best I’ve ever had. Which just isn’t fair. Honestly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The babbling was probably a bit much by now, but Derek still hadn’t told him to stop so Stiles was just going to pretend that Derek actually liked this part of his babbling too. He hadn’t thrown Stiles out of bed yet, and he hadn’t told him to shut up - even though Stiles was physically incapable of shutting the fuck up even at the best of times. This thing was actually working better than Stiles ever could have hoped for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Damn, Derek was incredible. He was so lucky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Back at you,” Derek managed, grumbling that Stiles wasn’t touching him more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Slow, remember?” Stiles planted a few kisses near Derek’s collarbone, and then moved slowly but surely to the vulnerable skin of Derek’s neck - and Derek let him. “We have all the time in the world. I’m going to do this right. Because you’re incredible. And you deserve it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh yeah, Derek clearly was not completely comfortable with any compliment that wasn’t clouded in sass - which was a damn shame, because someone like Derek deserved all the damn compliments. Stiles liked praising him, liked telling Derek all about how incredible he was, in the hopes that Derek was eventually going to realize how completely fucking true it was and that he deserved to find someone who knew that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not like the people who’d failed him before. Honestly, ugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since when do you have any patience?” Derek was still able to sass him, somehow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t threaten me,” Stiles was totally down to sass back, though. “Or you’ll see just how patient I can be out of sheer spite. And I’m really great at spite. It’s how I operate.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, Stiles had accomplished most of his achievements because of sheer spite, because of all of the people who thought that the hyperactive Sheriff’s brat was never going to get out of Beacon Hills, that he was never going to get through high school, let alone college. Because of all of the people who avoided him in high school and suddenly wanted to be friends with him at their ten year reunion because he was on TV now and therefore worthy of their attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek clearly had no idea what he was in for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just fuck me already,” Derek acted like he was bored. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles knew better than that. Derek was anything but bored, restlessly writhing against Stiles, hands clasping the sheets to keep himself from just grabbing Stiles already. No, Derek might have been a lot of things but bored was not one of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to rock your world,” Stiles promised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Prove it,” Derek just kept arguing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naturally, Stiles had to kiss him to get him to stop arguing. Surprisingly? Still hot. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>While Derek totally hadn’t wanted to admit it out loud, Stiles was pretty damn sure that he’d rocked Derek’s world - maybe a little bit too hard, because things had been a little bit awkward ever since. They’d hooked up once or twice over the past few days (okay, twice, like Stiles would ever lose track of how many times he’d had that glorious experience), and it had been weirdly intense both times. And Stiles wasn’t sure if it had been the good kind of intense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had been eager and demanding, showing up at Stiles’ apartment the second he’d gotten out of the shower - because of course he was now using his super hearing to make sure he got to Stiles the second he was both naked and clean. He’d barely waited to close the door behind himself before he just leapt at Stiles and didn’t stop until they’d both come at least once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t even make it to the bed. Either time. The first time had happened on the couch where they usually watched movies together, and the second time had happened right there in the hallway, with Derek holding Stiles up as he fucked him up against the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Totally hot. Stiles wasn’t going to deny that. But the vibe had changed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hockey,” Stiles chanted when he walked into Derek’s apartment after an early shift. “Dude, we haven’t watched a single game together in ages. And my body is ready.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was that a double meaning? Maybe a little. He’d made sure to shower before the game, though he’d been slightly disappointed that Derek hadn’t just shown up the second Stiles had turned the water off. That particular mating call had already lost its effectiveness - probably the second Derek had figured out that Stiles figured it out and started doing it on purpose. Which meant, right after the second time this week. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only the second time this week, and the week was almost over already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no game on tonight,” Derek somehow knew that off the top of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Stiles nodded. “But they’re broadcasting some games from the last few years of epic Stanley cup victories, and we need to watch them. Together. Because for some tragic reason, we weren’t actually friends when this originally happened. So there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes he actually forgot that he hadn’t even known Derek all that long yet, because it felt like Derek had been his friend for ages already. It felt like it had been more than eighteen months, more than five years, more than a decade. Like Derek had always been there, because he knew all of Stiles’ embarrassing stories so well that it was like he’d witnessed them himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other way around? Not so much, because it wasn’t like Derek had shared as much about his life and his past in return. No, that was all mentions and hints and Stiles frantically trying to put things together in a way that made even the slightest bit of sense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And somehow he always ended up with something tragic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re weird,” Derek told him, and then didn’t say anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Derek was particularly talkative, but that was weird even for him - and he was calling Stiles the weird one. He hadn’t even asked his customary question yet, which was definitely proof that there was something going on here that Derek was desperately trying to avoid talking about. Stiles usually wore him down eventually, and the hockey game would make a nice distraction from whatever disastrous thoughts Derek was thinking that made him grumpy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aren’t you going to ask?” Stiles was kind of off-balance because of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had to ask, because he always asked and Stiles wasn’t as into routines as Derek was, but he’d gotten used to it and now he needed it to make sure that he hadn’t managed to fuck it all up without even knowing. He was still getting some definite fuck-up vibes though, and Derek wasn’t doing anything to dissuade him from getting in his head about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though, did Derek even know that he was freaking Stiles out?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the weather?” Derek finally asked the right question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a thirty percent chance it’s already raining,” Stiles went for the first reference that he could think of, just because he could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, he didn’t grope himself while saying it, but he still thought he did a pretty decent job at nailing the impression. He put a bit of a vapid look on his face, eyes wide as he stared at Derek in the hopes that his friend would actually get this one. Though honestly, Derek didn’t seem like the kind of guy who spent a lot of time watching girl power movies in the mid zeroes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So fetch,” Derek sighed, as if it pained him to say it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was the guy Stiles had been missing. The guy with the constant surprises, in the best way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh God, you are my absolute favorite person on the planet,” Stiles gushed, because that was the best gift that Derek could have given him. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I didn’t know to record that for posterity’s sake. You are a gift and I love it so much.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mean Girls! Derek knew Mean Girls, and he knew enough about it to remember a quote even years later. Stiles just suddenly needed to know everything about this and about Derek. But also he needed Derek to stick around to surprise him for the rest of their lives. He just wanted about five to six more decades (or more) of watching hockey together and moving too close to Derek just because that was totally the most comfortable position. It totally had nothing to do with how it was a primo cuddling opportunity and Stiles was a slut for cuddles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was good at hugs and cuddles - another delightful surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Derek’s ears were red again. “Let’s just watch some hockey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, Stiles had so many questions, and Derek was sitting up straight and looking away as if he couldn’t stand to look at Stiles. And was this actually paranoia or was there a reason that Derek was being super weird around him right now? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, fine,” Stiles sighed, kind of not nearly as interested in it anymore now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were the one who wanted to watch,” Derek was rolling his eyes at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well yeah, and normally he would have been happy to focus on nothing but ridiculous dudes in pads playing with sticks and beating up other dudes in pads playing with sticks - but right now Derek was just so much more interesting. Not just because the hockey had just been an excuse to hang out with Derek, but also because… Yeah, okay so the hockey was fun, but it had mostly been about Derek the whole time. About spending time with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once Stiles wanted to take the initiative, but apparently Derek was a lot less into it when he wasn’t making the first move. Which was… disappointing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that was before you delighted me even more than you usually do,” Stiles had to argue, a dorky grin on his face. “Now I just want you to tell me all of the things you remember about that movie and how and why you came to watch it, and you know, any other fabulous secrets that you’ve been keeping from your very best friend in the whole wide world.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yep, Derek was basically his best friend - and definitely his favorite person in the world right about now. Stiles felt better about his relatively meh week just by being in Derek’s presence and bickering with him about Mean Girls and hockey games. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So of course he’d come over, even though he could have sworn he’d been exhausted before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Disowned,” was all that Derek had to say to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rude,” Stiles kicked at Derek’s thigh with his bare feet. “I’ll even pinky swear not to tell. Not that I’d even know who to tell, because no one else would appreciate this much as I appreciate you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles totally wanted to tell everyone he knew about how awesome Derek was, and how he just kept surprising Stiles and how could he was at hugs and cuddles and blowjobs and fucking Stiles against the wall and making Stiles laugh after a rough day… But pretty much all of the people in his life had already been forced to hear him talk about Derek almost continuously over the course of the past few weeks. And they apparently had gotten a bit sick of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even his Dad was getting snarky with him about his supposed secret boyfriend. Of course Stiles told him that he was just broning Derek, which meant that he not only had to explain to his Dad what that meant, but also that he was going to have to die of mortification for telling his Dad any kind of details about his suddenly very active sex life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had stopped him from trying to set Stiles up with another nice boy coming to visit the city, though. At least the embarrassment had been too much for his Dad to try that again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get those bony feet away from me,” Derek sighed, because he was a drama queen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I hurt the ickle werewolf?” Stiles was determined to be a shit about this until Derek no longer wore the resting murder face. “Did my fragile human toes actually deign to touch your perfectly sculpted thigh? Sculpted by the gods, clearly. Obviously.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was Stiles ever going to get over the compulsion to talk about how ridiculously gorgeous Derek was? Very doubtful. Was Stiles going to keep saying this shit in front of Derek even though it probably embarrassed him? It was decidedly so. Sure, that sounded like a magic 8-ball - because it was - but in what universe was Stiles going to stop liking Derek and saying nice things about how awesome he was? It certainly wasn’t this universe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As long as Derek kept being awesome, Stiles was going to keep acknowledging it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles,” Derek warned him off for some reason. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I not allowed to say nice things to you today?” Stiles was clearly missing something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shit, maybe Derek was having a bad day and what he needed from Stiles was something completely different. Usually the compliments and the very vocal support actually managed to make things better somehow, but things were different today, for some reason. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some reason that Derek apparently was not going to reveal. Which was his right, but still!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you mean them,” Derek was hiding his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Since when was that even a question? Stiles didn’t pay compliments he didn’t one hundred and fifty percent agreed with, especially not to Derek. Because not only could Derek hear if he was lying, he was also kind of sensitive about compliments - which meant that Stiles only said things to him that he could back up. With the many arguments he’d formed arguing for the continued awesomeness of Derek S. Hale. No, he didn’t know what the S stood for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great, ‘cause I totally do,” Stiles was going to make sure that Derek knew that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to sweet talk me anymore,” Derek was just being so very odd about everything today. “I’m already sleeping with you. I’m a done deal. A sure thing.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whoah, now this was definitely not going to a very happy place, and Stiles was going to have to put a stop to it right away. Because once again Derek was predicting something that wasn’t actually going to happen - because Stiles wasn’t one of the terrible people Derek had attempted to date before. Stiles wasn’t going to ditch him just because he’d supposedly gotten what he wanted from Derek - which wasn’t even true in the first place - because Stiles was a decent human being unlike those others. Because Stiles wasn’t done with Derek at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah uh,” Stiles wagged his finger in Derek’s face obnoxiously. “Just because we’re sleeping together doesn’t mean you suddenly got less interesting to me. Or less hot slash gorgeous slash stunning. You might have miraculously managed to get even hotter, which I could have sworn shouldn’t even be possible. I’m basically even more attracted to you now than I was when we started this thing. Like, I’m down. Whatever, whenever, wherever. Full on Shakira style.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Great, now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> song was going to get stuck in his head. And he sucked at belly dancing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Worst of all though, Derek still wasn’t looking him in the eye, even though with how close Stiles had gotten to him, it was almost impossible to hide from his gaze. That tricky wolf managed, though. By sheer stubborn determination - which was another character trait that shouldn’t have been half as attractive as it was. Meaning that it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> attractive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because of course Derek was also attractive when he acted like a petty little shit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Also, dude,” Stiles was going to have to repeat this until Derek got this through that stupidly thick skull of his. “A sure thing? It’s okay if you’re not in the mood, dude. And I know that my babble isn’t suddenly going to make you be up for it all the time. And that’s cool. Just because my libido doesn’t really have off days, doesn’t mean I expect anything from you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was good with his right hand - and his left hand, and the occasional toy. He really didn’t need Derek all the time, not if he wasn’t up for it. Not if Derek wanted him to just stop and go back to just being friends. Because that was kind of the vibe he was getting here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That would make this the weirdest dumping he’d ever been a part of, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And honestly? That was really saying something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what you say now,” Derek sounded a lot less angry all of a sudden. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This sounded a lot more like sadness - like Derek being resigned even. And there was no need for it, no need to be resigned to something that wasn’t going to cut it in the long run. Because Stiles was determined to do right by Derek - in whatever way Derek would let him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s what I’m going to say until you get sick of me,” Stiles was determined to make Derek understand that much. “If you’re done having sex with me, yeah, I’ll be sad for a bit because we’re fucking hot together and it’s been the best sex of my pathetic life, but I’m still going to be your friend. And I’m still going to argue about your terrible baseball opinions with you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He already knew that Derek wasn’t going to want to hear most of that, so he figured he’d get a rise out of him with the mention of baseball, one of the few topics that Derek let himself be vocal about. Because the way he would know if Derek ever got possessed or taken over by a pod person was if he didn’t argue that the Mets were fucking terrible. Derek would just never stop arguing that, for some reason that he hadn’t yet revealed to Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the one with the terrible opinions,” Derek huffed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Mets are superior,” Stiles was not going to let this rest, not ever. “You’re just wrong. Just stick with me long enough and I’ll teach you to appreciate real baseball.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, Stiles loved the Mets but he also knew when they were being terrible. It was just a lot of fun to play up his thing for the Mets to get Derek fired up. It was the only legitimate way of playing devil’s advocate - because most of the time when people said that it was an excuse to be a total fucking asshole about stuff. And that was just not Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I used to play,” Derek was suddenly actually participating in the argument again. “Trust me, I know what real baseball looks like. The Mets? Not it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that was taking it a bit too far, because the Mets totally played real baseball, Stiles had seen them do it many a time (on TV only, sadly) - but still, Derek had revealed another piece of information about his life before he’d met Stiles. Those moments were so rare and Stiles was so easily distracted by them that the Mets fell by the wayside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was clearly more important - and more interesting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In high school?” Stiles was trying to approach this with care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Derek was probably already regretting that reveal. “I was good. But I had to pretend to be injured before the scouts came. Because werewolves can’t be in professional sports.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was more than just a random bit of information. This was starting to approach an actual backstory, and while Derek knew all the reasons Stiles had ended up here, Stiles knew very little about how Derek had ended up at NYU. Sure, he was pretty much a born New Yorker - or so Stiles thought - but there was still so much that he didn’t know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But also, trying to picture werewolves playing baseball was both giving him fucked up thoughts about that scene in Twilight, and making him giggle at the combination claws and baseballs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it wouldn’t be fair,” Stiles nodded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because we’d get found out,” Derek’s face was suddenly completely blank. “And that’s going to get us all killed. And it’s just not worth that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that was the real backstory, and it was just adding to the tragic picture that Stiles had already put together with the limited pieces he’d been given. Was that why Derek never spoke of family beyond his sister Laura? Because his family was dead? Just because they were all werewolves? Or well, Stiles assumed that they were all wolves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was there a genetic component in lycanthropy?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus,” Stiles managed to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Blackhawks?” Derek was trying to pretend he hadn’t said any of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alright, that was probably Stiles’ cue to pretend that he hadn’t actually understood or even heard any of it, even though Derek was fully aware that Stiles </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> heard all of it. Because apparently denial was occasionally extremely important to Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Always,” Stiles nodded. “But Derek… You know you can talk to me, right? I’m your friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was not something that Derek particularly wanted to hear, but something that Stiles was going to say nonetheless. Because even though Derek didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hear it, Stiles was pretty sure that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hear it. Just so Derek remembered that he had people on his side - maybe just Stiles and maybe Laura, but it still counted. And Derek needed to know that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Derek clearly had no intention of actually following through on that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it,” Stiles just repeated it, because sometimes that worked. “No matter what we are, or what you want from me, I’m here. Even if it’s just shitty baseball arguments.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shitty baseball arguments and yelling at the TV because the ref was blind was a solid way to keep their friendship going at some level, and Stiles wouldn’t hear a word against that. He just wished that Derek would get on the same level as him, at least a little. But also he was trying to accept that not everyone was as naturally loquacious as he was, which meant that he needed to give Derek time to talk about stuff in his own time. If he ever wanted to, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right now, even though they were once again pressed up against each other on the couch - Stiles hadn’t even noticed Derek moving closer, it had been that subtle - he didn’t seem to want to talk about anything, or even think about anything other than the decade old hockey game that was about to start. Which was fine by Stiles. Derek got to call the shots again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re still going to have sex,” Derek sighed, as if it was a chore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you want to,” Stiles had to make that addition. “And also, dude, you do remember that’s not all I care about, right? Because I will text it to you fifteen times a day if that’s what it takes! I, Stiles Stilinski, care about Derek Hale regardless of us having amazing sex.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those words didn’t even cover half of the sentiment, because ‘care about’ was starting to feel like a copout. Like it wasn’t just that, even though that alone was kind of a big thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get it,” Derek clearly did not get it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was he even upset about this? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He totally had feelings for Derek. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Sure, he’d needed a couple of days to get his head on straight, but after that it was pretty much all systems go for him. Or at least, all systems go to tell Derek about his feelings so that they could figure out if they needed to end their benefits thing, or if they could try something new and different instead. Something that involved some actual romance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And somehow that led to Stiles showing up at Derek’s office like this was the final scene of a romantic comedy. Honestly, while he was trying to do the romantic gesture thing, he was pretty sure that Derek wouldn’t want to get into it at work. So even if this just turned out to be a precursor to a longer conversation to be had later, Stiles was going to be fine with that. He just knew that it was his turn to make the leap and show up for Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which meant he was just a boy, standing in front of an office door, hoping… oh, fuck it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello Professor Hale,” Stiles naturally had to bat his eyelashes a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles,” Derek’s eyes were wide, as if he hadn’t smelled Stiles coming. “You’re here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That he was. He was in Derek’s office, immediately closing the door behind him to make sure that none of the few people currently present would interrupt them with some well-meaning chitchat about the weather or Derek’s research. He was waiting for Derek to start putting some things together that went beyond Stiles’ presence in his office, waiting for Derek to figure out that this was more than just a quick visit. That this was a gesture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was trying to be romantic, damn it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am,” Stiles was trying really hard not to be a dick about Derek stating the obvious. “Don’t worry, this isn’t about the hot professor fantasy roleplay, because I wouldn’t just spring that on you without a discussion beforehand. Because I totally respect your boundaries, even though you look damn lickable in that outfit and there’s not a lot of blood in my brain right now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It earned him an eyeroll, which meant that Derek was almost done with the process of rebooting his brain. Not quite yet though, because he was still taking Stiles in, looking at Stiles’ professional wardrobe and the way he put in actual effort when it came to his messy hair, and how he was just appreciating Derek in his natural professional habitat. Watching Derek watch him as he was basically buried in paperwork all over that sturdy-looking desk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, Stiles had not given up on the desk fantasy yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s,” Derek started, and Stiles had to stop him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The weather is that I’m in love with you,” he said, because of course he was just going to blurt that out without any kind of lead-in. “So, there’s that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Derek just sat there, staring at him. For a wolf, who should have been expecting Stiles, who should have been able to hear the truth of it in Stiles’ heartbeat, he was looking mighty surprised. He was looking gobsmacked, to be honest, and the usual sass and/or murder brows had just seemed to disappear. Leaving a Derek who looked far too vulnerable - like any bad news might be the thing that broke him. And Stiles had done that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shit, that really hadn’t been the effect that he’d been going for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can hear it, right?” Stiles asked. “I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that, but it’s true. It’s probably been true for a while, maybe. It just happened so gradually that I didn’t even realize until I started worrying about you not believing me when I told you I care about you. Like, you’ve never believed me before, but it totally matters more now. Even though you’re an idiot who has terrible taste in baseball teams and is stupidly out of my league regardless. You’re ridiculous and it’s not fair to the rest of us, the just plain humans. Like me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was probably just him getting it wrong again, but Derek was not talking and Stiles wasn’t going to get stupidly sincere when he wasn’t sure if Derek wasn’t going to make this extremely awkward by rejecting him outright. Like, he was going to save the rest of his declaration of love for when he found out that his audience was actually interested in hearing it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles,” Derek said, and then once again fell silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It gave Stiles some more time to reflect on what he’d just done, which was not ideal. It gave him plenty of time to think about how much his life was going to suck if Derek decided that he never wanted to see Stiles again. He was probably going to have to move, and he was going to be lonely and friendless again and maybe consider trying to hang out with Erica and her husband outside of work, just to have friends. Not that he didn’t like Erica, but he didn’t know her that well yet, and he’d only met Boyd a couple of times and… They just weren’t Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not even Scotty would or could live up to Derek’s insane standards - which was just too crazy to contemplate for too long. He’d known Scott for most of his life. He’d known Derek less than two years, less than eighteen months even. How the fuck did that happen? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek,” Stiles tried not to mock him, but it was so damn hard not to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, he was holding back still, but it probably didn’t show him in the best light to be going from in love with Derek to making fun of him when Derek didn’t respond. That wasn’t exactly going to help his case - not that he was trying to argue Derek into dating him, because he felt like that level of persuasion shouldn’t have to be involved in something like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Derek didn’t want him, Stiles shouldn’t try to force it. He had to respect the boundaries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re such an asshole,” Derek spoke again, but it sounded like he was smiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so Stiles looked up again, because that didn’t make a lick of sense. Why would Derek suddenly sound happy again? And why was he doing that bashful chin dip thing that clearly meant that Derek was thinking about letting Stiles get all up in that again? Was he thinking about letting Stiles get all up in that again? And was that a good sign or not so much? Stiles was pretty sure just sleeping with Derek casually while he had these feelings would just be bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did I do?” Of course he was going to question it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek,” Derek repeated, rolling his eyes at Stiles in an imitation of bravado. “You’re not even going to give me time to process before reverting to your asshole self?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course not. It wasn’t like Stiles possessed any kind of patience. He was spinning his wheels here, waiting on a clue from Derek to figure out how he should act, and since Derek wasn’t giving him any clues, being himself seemed like the only valid option. And being himself involved a lot of mocking and teasing of Derek. Of course it did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going for realism here,” Stiles shrugged, because Derek had a point. “If I act like Prince Charming now, you’re going to be real disillusioned real fast when you see the real me. And besides, you wouldn’t buy me being charming all the time. You’d actively suspect it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For some reason - a reason that was probably going to make sense to people who actually knew Derek’s tragic backstory - Derek was actively suspicious of anyone being nice to him, even if they had all the right reasons. It was probably how Stiles had slipped past his guard, because he’d been kind of an asshole to Derek for a while there, ripping into him about baseball and all of his other tragic opinions about sports and pop culture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently that was just the way to Derek Hale’s heart. It made Stiles uniquely qualified. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you,” Derek’s sense of humor just got dark as fuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” was all that Stiles could say to that. “Dude, dark.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, he probably had reasons, but it was hard for Stiles to laugh at it when he didn’t know if it was actually all that funny in Derek’s case. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re in love with me?” Derek suddenly thought it was time to get back to the matter at hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Duh,” Stiles was happy to be a bit petty about it. “That’s what I said. In love with you. Keep up, dude. I didn’t think it was going to be that much of a surprise.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From Stiles’ perspective, everything had been leading up to this. It would have happened with or without the sex, though their benefits probably sped up the timeline quite a bit. If they’d continued hanging out platonically during Stiles’ most stressful months at work in the history of ever, Stiles still would have had these feelings. But he would have been able to pretend it was just that Derek was a good friend, and he wouldn’t have acted on it, probably. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least not until he got some sort of signal from Derek that he might have been interested. And that was not something that ever would have happened without the sex. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was,” Derek responded. “It is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alright, so maybe Derek wasn’t as in touch with his emotions as Stiles was. And yes, this was the first time he’d been able to claim any kind of emotional maturity over someone else - so this was definitely something new and different and exciting for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what,” Stiles was trying to put some pieces together, “you need me to walk you through my process? Because I can do that. If you’re ready to be showered with awkward praise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Stiles was done with him - not that Stiles was planning to ever get done with him - Derek was going to be able to accept a damn compliment without thinking that he had to argue against its merit. And Stiles was happy to get some exposure therapy going, because he had at least a million and one compliments for Derek that he was positively dying to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Derek had to do was reluctantly agree to it, and he’d go off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you must,” Derek was such a drama queen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I liked you before,” Stiles was going to start there - because it felt like the right place to start. “You never make me feel lesser or like a loser freak, and you treat me like an equal instead of a fragile little human who can’t handle your brand of teasing. And then you actually started voicing the things you wanted from me instead of expecting ESP to take care of it - and it was like you just got a million times hotter. And I didn’t think that was even possible.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as he’d expected, Derek couldn’t look at Stiles while he was being complimentary, instead focusing on the papers in front of him - anything to keep him distracted from the extremely nice things being said about him. Because he couldn’t let himself have nice things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like it when you tell me what you want from me,” Stiles continued. “Whether it’s to hold on for the ride or to take charge in making you feel good, or even if it’s telling me to shut up after I’ve said something stupid or hurtful. Every single time you were surprised that I’d want to do something you wanted, it just made me want to give you everything. And more.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had already known he was a giver, but he’d never felt this compelled to give someone nice things and happiness. Of course Derek had to be special in that way as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it even what you want?” Derek was actually considering that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re an idiot,” Stiles summarily told him. “Do you really think I’d do anything I didn’t want to do? Without complaining to you the whole time? In detail, with dramatic whining and pouting until you helped make it stop? Derek, come on, you know me better than that!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One thing that Stiles and Derek had in common were their behaviors that normal people might consider… extra. For Derek it was the rolling his eyes and the sass brows and all of the non-verbal ways he had of making sure that his displeasure was known. That and the unnecessary shows of strength that made Stiles just lose his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not the type to grin and bear it,” Derek seemed to understand that much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Grimace and complain, maybe,” Stiles shrugged, because he was totally aware of the kind of brat he could be. “And then offer a far superior option. Because I have the best ideas.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek dared to disagree, judging by the look on his face. It wasn’t surprising, because Derek was one of the few people who openly challenged his ideas instead of just grudgingly going along with them like most of the people in Beacon Hills knew to do by now. And well, Stiles had always liked to be challenged, so he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to make Derek stop. In fact, he kind of said it just to make Derek rise to the challenge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like coming here?” Derek was skeptical. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like showing you that I’m willing to put in the effort too,” Stiles was just going to have to spell out his romantic gesture. “And yeah, I’d been planning to hold it on the love confession thing until we got back home. To yours or mine. But still, romantic gesture, dude!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because no matter how much Derek mocked him, this had been a great idea, and it had totally been a boss romantic gesture. No matter what the end result was, whether it was a happy outcome or if it was going to hurt for a little while, Stiles was certain that he’d done the right thing here, and certain that he wasn’t actually going to lose Derek completely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No matter what he decided on. If he ever decided on anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you’d call me dude while saying that,” Derek sighed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, would you prefer a pet name?” Stiles was totally going to take this opportunity to try every single monstrosity he’d ever heard about. “Sweetheart? That’s a hell no. Darling. Honey. Dear. Baby. Baby? No, also a no. Babe. Yes, that’s good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek hadn’t made a face at that one, so Stiles figured he didn’t object. There had been a particularly violent response to the word ‘sweetheart’, of the kind that meant that Stiles was going to have to cut that word out of his vocabulary completely. The others had gotten some cringes, just nothing serious. He’d had some doubts about ‘baby’ even though it didn’t seem like the right word, but apparently ‘babe’ was fine. Which was great. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek, babe,” Stiles said that just to say it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I regret everything,” Derek deadpanned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He really, really didn’t. Because Stiles was getting better at reading him, and if Derek really didn’t like it, he would have been very straightforward about making it known. That and there was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, which definitely meant that Derek thought it was at least a little amusing. So clearly Stiles was winning here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though, not really, because Derek hadn’t responded to the original words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, now what?” Stiles was done being patient, waiting for Derek to respond. “I’m in love with you. Is there anything you’d like to say about that? No response of any kind?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was totally nerve-wracking, to not have any idea how Derek felt about all of it. But also, it wasn’t, because he’d gotten it off his chest and it wasn’t just in his head anymore. At least now Derek knew and there was no more weirdness between them. Hopefully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What am I supposed to say?” Derek looked to Stiles for an answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you happy about that?” Stiles was going to give him all the questions to answer. “Or maybe not? Is that something you’d consider acting on? Is it something that makes you second-guess our arrangement in any way? Does it make you uncomfortable in any way? Do you feel the same? Would you be interested in dating or are you done with me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Look, if Derek wanted to know all the things that Stiles would like to know, Stiles was going to give him a speech. He was happy asking all the questions that he was worried that Derek wasn’t going to answer, because at least they were keeping the lines of communication open here. At least Derek asked, at least he was interested in finding out exactly what kind of answers Stiles was looking for. He didn’t just sit there in silence and wait for Stiles to lose it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had happened before. Not with Derek. With… others. In the past. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m happy, I think,” Derek said it quickly and softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Stiles could work with that. “Anything else is up to you. I can wait.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t made Derek unhappy with his declaration of love. In fact, he’d made Derek happy, something he didn’t easily admit to being. So Derek wasn’t just indifferent to Stiles’ declaration, it was something he liked. Something he might have even wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you can’t,” Derek was not going to let this go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So rude, though. Not untrue, but still rude. It was rude of Derek to just sit there behind his desk still and judge Stiles from there. Sure, Stiles was the one looking down, but Derek was the one with all of the power here. His seated position didn’t matter, though Stiles really did appreciate it when Derek suddenly got up and moved around the desk, both putting them on more equal footing and no longer keeping the desk as a barrier between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude, I’m gonna try,” Stiles was totally going to be good at this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Derek said. “That’s fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fine. He said it was fine. That was… completely on par for Derek, but still more than enough for Stiles to make fun of him again. Because of course Derek was going to play it off as nothing special, even though he’d just admitted that he wanted Stiles to try, that he wanted Stiles to still be around while he figured out how to string the right words together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for Derek? That was huge. It was basically the kind of dramatic ‘wait for me’ statement that Stiles always swooned over in the romantic novels he totally didn’t read. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only better, because it was Derek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So romantic,” Stiles pretended to swoon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Asshole,” Derek told him in return. “Go home. I’ll be there when I’m done. In about an hour, maybe two. Start thinking about where you want to go tonight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Derek’s version of romantic, and now he was kicking Stiles out, which was just par for the course. Even though it was only a temporary separation, apparently, because Derek was down to finish up and then find Stiles at his place. For whatever activity Stiles had come up with, apparently. Which was not something that seemed to be making a whole lot of sense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Stiles felt like that was a valid question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our first date,” Derek apparently thought he’d been obvious about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>First date? A date? A proper date? The kind where they met each other at the door and dressed up to the best of their abilities and went out in public together? That kind of date?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just the knowledge that Derek was down to date him was already killing him, but no, Derek also had to give him the power to plan the date. It was a make or break type deal, and Stiles just really wanted to fucking nail it - the date, not Derek. Or well, maybe both. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No flowers,” Derek apparently already knew that Stiles was thinking of all the things. “Nothing too outlandish. Nothing that might put you in the hospital just when I finally get to tell Laura that I’m seeing someone. And no Mets involved. In any date. Ever.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Stiles could totally have stopped at a flower shop on the way home for something pretty and semi-wild, because that was the kind of thing that suited Derek. And flowers were totally romantic, and Derek deserved romance and being swept off his feet. And because Derek had decided for some reason that Stiles was going to get to do the sweeping, he was going to have to pull out all the stops to make sure that it was special. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I regret everything,” Stiles blatantly lied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care where we go,” Derek kind of ruined the excitement a little there. “I care that we’re going. Together. I’d like it if we didn’t just stay at home, but that’s it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again Derek’s standards were astonishingly low, which made Stiles want to blow them all out of the water on one single date. Which might be a sign of him taking it too far again, but he was naturally an overachiever, and Derek was the kind of person who didn’t usually seem to mind it when Stiles went all out. Though maybe in this case, simple would do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was Derek after all, the secret homebody with the body of a gym rat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a secret romantic, aren’t you?” Stiles was so very pleased by that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It gave Stiles an excuse to be at least as romantic as Derek was, albeit with a little - or a lot - less subtlety involved. Because if Derek could say something like that, something that meant ‘I just want to be with you’, Stiles was going to make sure it was perfect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no idea what you mean,” Derek was actually smiling a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a smile he wanted to look at for the rest of his life. And also a smile he wanted to kiss, even if it was just briefly. Stiles wanted to get to know the shape of Derek’s mouth when it was smiling as he kissed him - so he kissed his boyfriend (?). Quickly, fleetingly, as a tease for later, when they’d finished their first date and they went home together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And perhaps, they’d even get to wake up together, with Stiles fumbling around as he tried to get ready for work and Derek just watching and rolling his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Derek,” Stiles had to ask. “How’s the weather?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ attempt at a romantic theme. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the fuck would I know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that? That was love. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So romantic. </span>
</p>
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